BY 
ES.RIMBALL 


I  i       fll 


Jay   Gould   Harmon 


WITH 


Maine    Folks 


JAY   GOULD   HARMON. 


•  V.  »•  V. 


Jay  Gould   Harmon 

/f/77/ 

MAINK      FOLKS 


y/  I'ieturt  ef  I.ij'e  ir.  ti't  .Mjine  tfc*Jt 

11  r 
(/EORGE  SELWVN    KIMBAI.I. 

Author  of   "JMNLV    HO.V1K" 


BOSTON,  i  .  s.  A. 

C.    M.    CLARK.   PUBLISHING   CO.,   Inc. 
1905 


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illustrations; 

Jay  Gould  Harmon 


PAGE 
"Are    you    sick,    sir?       Can    I    help 

you?"  ....  5 

"  He  turned  to  see  the  tall  form  of  his 

host" 50 

"  He    was   playing  to  that   little   soul 

and  it  responded  "     ...  94 

"It  was  a  moment  that   tried   men's 

souls" 165 

"  He  felt  that  the  grasp  of  every  man's 

hand  was  that  of  a  friend    .  .  205 

"  The  price  is  a  man.      A  strong  man, 

a  great  man "  .  .  .  268 

"  Dolly  could  not  conceal  her  joy  at 
having  her  graceful  lover  near 
her"  .  .  .  '  .  .  357 

"  President  Hooven  took  upon  himself 
to  explain  to  the  pale  and  silent 
woman  at  his  side  who  the  um 
pire  was  "  402 

"  And  you  do  love  me,  Lois  ?  "          .          429 


,y 

5 


J 


JAY  GOULD   HARMON 


CHAPTER  I 

WHY,  Aunt  Martha!  What  has 
happened?  You  look  frightened, 
and  seem  all  out  of  breath." 

"  Lois,  I  have  had  such  a  scare ! "  And  Mrs. 
John  Crosby  sank  into  the  great  rocking-chair, 
in  a  state  of  utter  collapse. 

"  What  frightened  you,  Aunt? " 

Mrs.  Crosby  was  breathing  heavily,  but  man 
aged  to  gasp  out,  "  There's  a  drunken  tramp — 
lying  side  the  road,  near  the  brook — an' — 
and — I  didn't  see  him  till  he  spoke  to  me."  And 
she  closed  her  eyes  as  if  shutting  out  a  fearful 
sight. 

After  waiting  for  her  aunt  to  recover  a  little, 
Lois  asked: 

;£  You  said  he  spoke  to  you.  What  did  he 
say?" 

"  That's  what  frightened  me  most.  You 
see,  he  was  so  drunk  that  he  couldn't  get  up, 


and  he  had  the  audacity  to  ask  me  to  get  him  a 
little  water,  and  offered  me  a  little  cup.  He 
looked  dreadfully  sick,  and  his  voice  sounded 
weak  and  thick." 

"What  did  you  do,  Aunt?" 

"Why,  I  just  screamed,  and  ran  as  fast  as 
ever  I  could." 

The  girl  looked  concerned  as  she  said,  "  The 
man  is  probably  sick,  Aunt  Martha,  and  not 
drunk.  I  will  go  out  and  see,"  and  she  moved 
towards  the  door. 

"You'll  do  no  such  thing,  Lois  Crosby!" 
said  her  aunt  querulously.  '  You  are  just  like 
your  father.  He  takes  in  all  tramps  and  beg 
gars,  feeds  and  pities  them,  and  so  keeps  him 
self  poor.  Come  right  back  and  lock  the  door 
and  shut  down  the  windows,  and  if  he  comes  to 
the  door  we  will  pretend  that  there  is  no  one 
here.  I'll  blow  the  horn  three  times,  and  the 
men  folks  will  know  there  is  something  wrong 
at  the  house.  Where  is  Joey? " 

"  He  is  asleep  in  your  bedroom,  Aunt.  He 
is  not  feeling  very  well  this  morning,  so  I 
rocked  him  to  sleep  and  laid  him  on  the  bed. 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON  3 

But,  Aunt  Martha,  don't  blow  the  horn  until 
I  go  out  and  look  up  the  road.  He  may  not  be 
a  tramp,  but  some  traveler  who  is  tired  and 
sick.  It's  a  long  way  for  the  men  to  come  for 
nothing." 

"Lois  Crosby,  are  you  crazy?  Have  you 
forgotten  the  terrible  time  we  had  with  the  mis 
erable  tramp  who  forced  himself  into  the  kitch 
en  and  made  us  give  him  his  breakfast,  and 
took  your  uncle's  coat  and  hat,  and  might  have 
murdered  us  all  if  your  uncle  hadn't  come 
along  and  kicked  him  out  of  the  yard  and  set 
Lion  on  him.  The  dog  would  have  killed  him, 
most  like,  if  Jim  Gramme,  your  sweetheart, 
hadn't  taken  him  off.  As  it  was,  he  tore  the 
man's  clothes  nearly  off,  and  bit  him  so  that  the 
blood  ran.  Your  uncle  said  then  that  we  must 
never  allow  a  tramp  or  beggar  to  come  into  the 
yard.  '  If  they  insist,  set  Lion  on  them/  he 
said.  I  calculate  that  it  was  the  same  tramp 
who  set  the  hay  barn  afire  in  the  meadow  the 
next  night." 

The  girl  had  not  heard  what  her  aunt  had 
said.  She  had  sped  across  the  dooryard  to  the 


4  JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

watering  trough  standing  under  one  of  the 
great  elms  near  the  road,  and,  raising  one  of 
her  hands  to  shield  her  eyes  from  the  glare  of 
the  sun,  looked  in  the  direction  that  her  aunt 
had  said  she  had  seen  the  tramp. 

How  unconscious  the  girl  was  of  her  striking 
beauty!  She  was  very  tall  and  fair.  In  her 
face  there  was  a  look  of  composure.  The  eyes 
were  deep  brown,  large  and  expressive.  Her 
hair  was  neither  gold  nor  light  brown,  but  of 
that  untellable  shade  which,  catching  the  light 
of  the  sun,  seems  touched  at  times  with  golden 
fire.  It  rippled  in  waves  from  her  low  white 
brow.  Her  complexion  was  a  healthful  pale. 
The  nose  straight.  The  mouth  had  lines  of 
tenderness  and  strength.  The  warm  red  lips 
were  open  just  enough  to  show  the  perfect 
teeth.  The  form  was  superb,  and  there  was  a 
birthright  grace  and  ease  in  every  movement. 
From  her  distinguished  grandfather  she  had 
inherited  that  belle  tournure  which  is  the  pecu 
liar  gift  of  the  higher  castes  of  the  Norman- 
French, 

Near  the  brook  was  a  man  trying  to  rise. 


U  Tyh 

*     # 


"  Are  vou  sick,  sir  ?      Can  1  help  you  r 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON  5 

He  partly  succeeded  and  then  fell  back.  She 
saw  him  try  to  dip  up  some  water  with  a  cup. 
He  failed  to  do  so  and  sank  back,  his  head 
resting  upon  his  outstretched  arm. 

Without  a  moment's  hesitation  the  pitying 
girl  ran  to  the  man's  side,  and  said  gently,  "  Are 
you  sick,  sir?  Can  I  help  you?" 

The  man  tried  to  lift  himself  upon  one  arm, 
while  with  the  other  he  held  towards  her  a  small 
drinking  cup.  In  faint  tones  he  said,  "  I  think 
I  have  had  a  sunstroke.  I  am  very  dizzy,  and 
cannot  see.  If  you  will  kindly  help  me  to  a 
little  water  it  may  restore  me."  As  he  spoke 
the  last  words  he  sank  back,  and  seemed  to  lose 
consciousness. 

In  a  moment  the  girl  had  placed  her  strong 
arm  under  his  head,  and  lifting  it,  held  the  cup 
to  his  lips.  He  opened  his  eyes  and  drank 
eagerly. 

"  Will  you  have  more,  sir? " 

'  Thank  you,  yes."  And  again  she  lifted 
his  head,  and  he  drank  the  full  contents  of  the 
cup. 

Lois  Crosby  had  noted  much,  even  in  that 


6  JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

short  time.  The  man  was  young,  possibly 
twenty-eight,  and  though  his  clothes  were  dusty 
and  soiled  they  were  not  ragged  nor  ill-fitting. 
Though  the  face  was  begrimed  and  pale,  yet 
it  was  a  face  of  marked  character  and  refine 
ment.  The  neatly  trimmed  black  hair  curled 
about  his  temples  in  sharp  contrast  to  their 
marble  whiteness.  His  face  was  guiltless  of 
a  beard.  The  eyes  were  dark,  the  lashes  long 
and  heavy.  The  voice  was  deep  and  sweet. 
Even  as  he  lay  there,  so  helpless,  there  was  an 
indefinable  something  about  the  man  which 
clearly  proclaimed  that  he  was  far  removed 
from  the  ranks  of  those  miserable  derelicts  of 
humanity — tramps. 

As  these  observations  were  passing  through 
Lois's  mind  she  was  recalled  by  hearing  the 
stranger  say,  "If  you  will  help  me  to  rise  I 
think  I  can  walk  on.  But  this  is  very  awk 
ward.  I  am  at  a  loss  how  to  thank  you." 

For  a  reply  she  extended  her  hand  and 
assisted  him  to  his  feet.  He  clung  to  her  a 
moment,  then  walked  along  the  edge  of  the 
brook  a  short  distance  and  stepped  over  into 


JAY    GOULD    IIARMOX  7 

the  road.  They  soon  reached  the  lane  leading 
into  the  farmyard,  and  Lois  said,  "  There  is  a 
seat,  sir,  under  the  tree  near  the  well.  You  had 
better  sit  down  and  rest  while  I  run  in  and  get 
you  something  to  eat.  May  I  ask  where  you 
are  going?" 

4  To  Falling  Water,  Miss.  May  I  ask  how 
far  it  is  from  here? " 

"  Only  a  mile  and  a  half,"  she  replied. 

Suddenly  he  began  to  stagger,  and  it  was 
only  with  considerable  assistance  on  the  part 
of  Lois  that  he  was  enabled  to  reach  the  seat. 
He  sank  down,  clasped  the  tree  trunk  for  sup 
port,  resting  his  head  heavily  on  his  extended 
arm. 

'  How  dizzy  I  am,"  he  said  faintly.  '  If  I 
open  my  eyes,  the  world  reels.  I  have  scarcely 
strength  to  thank  you." 

Lois  noticed  that  he  had  a  small  pack,  or 
knapsack,  strapped  to  his  back,  made  of  water 
proof  cloth  similar  in  color  to  his  suit.  She 
wras  about  to  suggest  that  he  remove  it  when 
she  saw  her  uncle  coming  swiftly  into  the  yard, 
closely  followed  by  his  "  farm  hand,"  "  big 


8  JAY   GOULD    HARMON 

Jim"  Gramme.  Her  aunt  at  the  same  time 
came  out  of  the  kitchen  door  and  ran  to  meet 
her  husband.  There  was  something  ominous 
in  the  appearance  of  this  huge,  red-faced,  per 
spiring  old  man,  as  he  approached,  shouting  in 
a  loud,  coarse  voice: 

"What's  the  matter,  Martha?  What's  hap 
pened?" 

"  John,  there's  another  tramp  here.  He  pre 
tends  to  be  sick,  and  Lois  is  giving  him  water 
and  talking  to  him.  I  tried  all  I  could  to  pre 
vent  her,  but  she  would.  Don't  blame  me, 
John.  I  couldn't  help  it.  He's  awfully  drunk. 
I've  been  so  frightened! " 

Her  husband  did  not  seem  to  hear  her,  but 
rushing  up  to  the  stranger  pushed  his  niece 
aside,  and  in  threatening  tones  said: 

'You  get  off  my  premises!  Do  you  hear, 
get  off!  You  can't  fool  me  with  your  pre 
tended  sickness.  I've  seen  too  many  of  your 
kind.  Start  your  boots,  I  say,  or  I  will  set  the 
dog  on  you!" 

The  man  raised  his  head,  and  in  a  faint  voice 
answered,  "  I  hear  you,  sir,  and  the  moment  I 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON  9 

am  able  to  walk  I  will  respect  your  wishes. 
But  kindly  allow  me  a  moment  to  recover  my 
strength." 

'  Uncle,"  said  Lois,  "  don't  you  see  he  is  not 
a  tramp  but  a  very  sick  man?  We  ought  to 
take  him  into  the  house." 

The  old  man  turned  and  glared  at  his  niece, 
and  said,  "You're  a  bigger  fool  than  your 
father,  Lois."  And  then  turning  to  the 
stranger  he  continued: 

"  Are  you  going  to  get  out  of  here,  or  shall 
I  get  the  dog?  He'll  make  you  find  your 
heels.  I  say,  Lion,  Lion!" 

Mrs.  Crosby  had  advanced  to  the  side  of  her 
husband.  She  could  see  the  pale  face  of  the 
suffering  man,  she  had  caught  the  pitiful 
cadence  of  his  uncommon  voice,  and  her  heart 
was  touched. 

"Oh,  John,"  she  cried,  "don't  set  Lion  on 
him.  I  begin  to  think  with  Lois  that  he  is  not 
a  tramp,  but  a  very  sick  man.  Hadn't  we  bet 
ter  ask  him  to  come  into  the  house? " 

Before  she  could  say  more  her  husband 
pushed  her  rudely  aside,  and  advancing  to  Jim 


10         JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

Gramme  ordered  him  to  go  and  get  Lion. 
"  Hear  him  growl  and  bark.  He  knows  there 
is  a  tramp  here." 

There  was  no  doubt  that  the  savage  dog 
knew  there  was  something  going  on  in  the  door- 
yard,  for  from  the  time  that  John  Crosby  had 
first  ordered  the  stranger  away  the  dog  had 
been  growling.  The  rattle  of  his  restraining 
chain  as  he  tried  to  break  loose  could  be  plainly 
heard.  The  dog  had  been  taught  to  hate  tramps 
and  beggars,  and  to  allow  none  of  their  class 
to  enter  the  yard.  He  had  become  so  savage 
of  late  that  it  was  not  considered  safe  to  leave 
him  at  liberty. 

When  Jim  Gramme  was  ordered  by  John 
Crosby  to  loose  the  dog,  he  turned  indignantly 
to  his  employer  and  said,  "  I  would  not  set  that 
dog  on  cattle,  much  less  a  sick  man.  He  would 
kill  him." 

At  this  moment  there  was  a  scream  from 
Mrs.  Crosby  and  a  cry,  "Look  out  for  Lion! 
He  has  broken  loose ! " 

The  dog,  with  eyes  green  with  hate  and 
mouth  open,  his  cruel  fangs  gleaming,  was 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON          11 

rushing  across  the  yard  toward  the  drooping 
figure  on  the  seat. 

Jim  Gramme  rushed  forward  to  intercept 
the  dog.  Lois  in  an  abandonment  of  fear 
moved  quickly  to  the  stranger's  side  and  flung 
her  arms  over  his  shoulders  as  if  to  shield  him 
from  the  enraged  brute. 

The  dog  with  a  growl  sprang  at  the  man 
just  as  Lois  had  flung  herself  protectingly 
over  him.  In  his  blind  fury  the  dog  sank  his 
fangs  in  the  forearm  of  the  brave  girl.  There 
was  a  shriek  of  pain,  one  awful  moment  of 
terror,  then  the  stranger  was  seen  to  seize  the 
brute  by  his  jaws  and  wrench  them  apart.  The 
next  moment  Jim  Gramme,  with  his  powerful 
hands,  grasped  the  dog  by  each  jowl,  swung 
him  bodily  above  his  head,  and  flung  him  with 
terrible  force  upon  the  stone  wall.  There  was 
a  sharp  yelp,  a  convulsion,  a  slight  quiver,  and 
Lion  was  dead. 

For  a  moment  no  one  moved  or  spoke.  Then 
Gramme  turned  to  John  Crosby  and  in  a  voice 
of  suppressed  anger  and  emotion  said,  "Mr. 
Crosby,  I  always  knew  that  you  was  a  hard 


12         JAY   GOULD   HARMON 

man,  but  I  did  not  know  before  that  you  was  a 
brute." 

The  old  man  stood  immovable,  with  his  face 
working,  but  he  could  not  speak,  so  great  was 
his  agitation.  The  moment  the  dog  had  been 
torn  away,  the  stranger  had  said,  "  Your  arm, 
quick,  Miss! "  and  seizing  it,  applied  his  lips  to 
the  wound,  with  the  wise  intention  of  drawing 
the  poison  of  the  dog's  fangs. 

"Lois!  Lois!  Are  you  hurt?"  cried 
Gramme. 

But  before  she  could  reply  the  stranger 
raised  his  head,  and  lifting  the  arm  of  Lois 
said,  "  I  fear  I  am  not  strong  enough — you  do 
it.  Work  quickly — the  one  at  the  wrist  I  fear 
most.  It  is  near  an  artery.  Draw  until  the 
flesh  is  white." 

Dropping  upon  his  knees,  Gramme  placed 
the  bleeding  arm  to  his  lips,  in  an  effort  to 
draw  the  poison  from  the  wound,  for  he  under 
stood  the  peril  arising  from  such  blood- 
poisoning. 

The  stranger  was  attempting  to  rise.  Before 
he  could  fairly  gain  his  feet,  John  Crosby 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON          13 

rushed  forward,  seized  him  by  the  collar, 
dragged  him  along  for  some  distance,  and 
then  hurled  him  forward  toward  the  highway 
with  all  his  strength,  crying  out,  "  You  are  the 
cause  of  all  this  trouble,  you  miserable  good- 
for-nothing  tramp ;  you  deserve  to  be  shot." 

For  a  few  steps  the  man  kept  his  feet,  then 
fell  forward,  striking  his  head  against  the 
sharp  edge  of  the  iron  strap  that  bound  the  top 
of  the  watering  trough.  It  was  a  horrible 
blow.  With  a  groan  he  sank  prostrate,  the 
blood  gushing  from  a  great  cut  on  his  head. 
He  seemed  to  be  dead. 

Lois  and  Gramme  rushed  to  the  stricken 
man,  Lois  crying  out  as  she  bent  over  the  white 
face,  "Oh,  uncle,  uncle!  You've  killed  him! 
You've  killed  him!" 

Just  at  this  trying  moment  Major  Daniel 
Crosby,  Lois's  father,  and  half-brother  of 
John  Crosby,  drove  up  to  the  watering  trough. 
Pie  had  been  to  Greensburg  with  his  wife,  who 
was  teacher  of  French  in  the  academy,  and  was 
returning  to  his  home.  He  jumped  from  the 
buckboard,  crying  out,  "What  is  it,  Lois? 


14         JAY   GOULD    HARMON 

What  is  it,  my  child?  Why,  your  arm  is  bleed 
ing!  My  darling,  what  has  happened?  And 
who  is  this  poor  man? " 

"Oh,  father,  father!  Such  a  terrible  thing 
has  happened!  Uncle  John  thought  this  man 
was  a  tramp — and — you  see — you  see  how 
dreadfully  it  has  ended." 

John  Crosby  now  came  forward.  "  He 
brought  it  onto  himself.  He's  got  what  he 
deserved,  and  you  all  know  it.  He's  a  dirty 
tramp." 

Major  Crosby,  who  had  been  bending  over 
the  unconscious  man,  arose,  and  with  a  face 
pale  as  death  said  sternly,  "  Brother  John,  may 
God  have  pity  on  you  when  you  stand  before 
His  judgment  seat  and  ask  for  mercy." 

Then,  turning  to  Gramme,  he  said,  "Help 
me  to  put  this  poor  fellow  on  the  buckboard. 
His  heart  still  beats  and  he  is  breathing.  We 
will  take  him  to  our  home.  How  young  he  is, 
and  what  a  striking  face!" 

They  laid  him  gently  upon  the  floor  of  the 
springy  buckboard,  placing  the  Major's  coat 
under  his  head.  Gramme  threw  the  soft 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON          15 

blanket  over  the  stranger,  who  began  to  show 
some  signs  of  recovering  consciousness. 

"  Come  with  me,  Lois,"  said  her  father. 
'You  must  have  your  wounds  cauterized  at 
once.  Say  good-by  to  your  aunt.  And  are 
you  coming,  Gramme? " 

"  I  am,  Major  Crosby.  I  am  through  with 
your  brother." 

They  started  with  their  suffering  burden 
toward  Falling  Water,  leaving  the  fiery  old 
man  standing  in  his  dooryard,  frowning  and 
glaring  at  the  departing  buckboard.  His 
young  wife  had  sunk  upon  the  floor  of  the 
porch  in  a  faint.  The  terrible  scene  she  had 
witnessed  had  overcome  her. 

Her  little  son  Joey,  fair  in  face  but  de 
formed  in  limb,  had  trundled  out  of  the  door 
of  the  house,  and  was  asking  in  childish  won 
der,  "Oh,  mamma,  mamma!  What  is  the 
matter  with  Lion — he  is  so  still?" 


THERE  is  in  the  State  of  Maine  a  little 
village  on  the  border  of  the  woods 
called  Falling  Water,  suggestively 
and  beautifully  situated  at  the  confluence 
of  two  rivers;  the  lordly  Penobscot  rolling 
down  from  broad  Chesumcook  on  the  north 
west,  while  on  the  southeast  Baskehegan's  flood 
pours  out  from  a  deep  and  mysterious  wilder 
ness.  The  great  woods  rise  high  and  dark 
above  the  little  plateau  along  the  river's  front 
on  which  the  town  is  built,  and  roll  away  like 

"  A  green  surging  blanket  of  woodland 
Reaching  far  to  Scotia's  fair  waters." 

What  a  wilderness  is  here!  Twenty  thou 
sand  square  miles  of  interminable  woods! 
Three  times  could  the  Black  Forest  of  Ger 
many  be  lost  in  this  continent  of  trees.  What 
a  fund  to  draw  on !  What  a  playground  for  a 

16 


JAY   GOULD    HARMON         17 

nation!  What  a  reservoir  of  all  that  is  pre 
cious  and  priceless  to  health,  recreation,  and 
life!  What  a  mine  of  wealth!  What  a  field 
for  study  and  contemplation! 

In  history,  song,  and  verse  has  "  the  pride  of 
the  Teuton  "  been  celebrated  for  centuries,  but 
no  pen  has  yet  been  found  to  justly  immor 
talize  this  mightier  domain — this  State  of 
breathing  woods. 

A  thousand  lakes — those  blue-eyed  springs 
of  life  and  beauty — send  their  pure  waters 
through  the  arterial  system  of  winding  streams 
and  shining  rivers  to  bless  the  earth  and  all  that 
live  thereon.  Here  indeed  is  an  Arcadia  be 
yond  the  dreams  of  a  poet. 

For  years  this  noble  forest  had  suffered  the 
assaults  of  avarice;  for  years  its  fallen  children 
have  floated  down  the  aisles  of  water  to  satisfy 
the  greed  of  man.  But  it  is  so  vast  that 
human  selfishness,  with  all  its  power  and 
"  means  to  boot,"  has  not  been  able  to  accom 
plish  its  destruction,  nor  dissipate  this  priceless 
heritage. 

But  have   a   care,   O   thoughtless   men  of 


18         JAY   GOULD    HARMON 

Maine,  lest  your  children  curse  you  for  that 
stupid  cupidity  which  leads  you  to  destroy  a 
living  wealth  that  ages  cannot  restore. 

At  certain  periods  of  the  year  Falling  Water 
was  a  place  of  importance.  In  the  fall  all  the 
supplies  and  all  the  men  and  horses  necessary 
for  the  great  lumbering  operations  were  mobil 
ized  here,  to  be  distributed  among  the  great 
lumbering  camps  farther  north.  Again  in  the 
spring  and  early  summer  it  was  the  scene  of 
life  and  fiery  action,  when  the  great  spring 
drives  came  out  of  the  east  and  west  branches 
of  the  Penobscot  and  the  tributaries  of  the 
Mattawamkeag.  Then  it  became  the  scene  of 
action  so  romantic  and  so  strenuous  as  to  sur 
pass  in  wild  tumult  and  daring  deed  any  scene 
of  man's  endeavor,  save  that  of  war.  Night 
and  day  the  camp  fires  blazed  along  the  river 
front,  and  raucous  voices  of  command  could  be 
heard  as  men  of  many  bloods  rushed  to  their 
work  with  a  will  and  throbbing  energy  that 
must  be  seen  to  be  appreciated  or  believed. 

Falling  Water  was  the  natural  home  of  the 
professional  lumberman,  river-driver,  surveyor, 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON         19 

sealer,  blacksmith,  cook,  and  jam-buster,  and 
all  that  class  of  semi-professional  men  em 
ployed  in  lumbering.  The  hunter  who  lived 
by  the  use  of  the  rifle  and  trap  could  still  be 
found  there. 

The  "sports"  of  distant  cities  made  this 
their  port  of  entry  into  the  woods.  Here  could 
be  found  the  most  reliable  guides  and  all  neces 
sary  supplies.  The  hunting  and  fishing  season 
was  to  this  little  community  the  most  joyous 
and  profitable,  for  it  brought  not  only  money 
but  bright  and  interesting  people  from  the 
great  outside  world,  which  to  many  of  these 
simple  and  honest  folk  was  a  world  of  surmises 
and  dreams. 

One  of  the  most  respected  men  in  Falling 
Water  was  William  Gray,  usually  called 
"  Squire  "  Gray.  He  had  formerly  been  a  sur 
veyor,  but  had  retired  from  that  strenuous 
work  and  "  settled  down."  The  Squire  was  a 
very  useful  man  in  the  little  community.  Pie 
was  postmaster,  justice  of  the  peace,  first  se 
lectman,  and  chairman  of  the  school  com 
mittee.  He  wrote  deeds  and  mortgages,  and 


20         JAY   GOULD   HARMON 

was  counseled  with  on  many  questions,  legal 
and  otherwise. 

He  was  one  of  those  rare  old  men  whom  we 
occasionally  meet  whose  face  is  a  "letter  of 
credit,"  and  whose  quiet  and  dignified  manners 
win  the  respect  and  confidence  of  all.  There 
was  something  about  him  suggesting  the  gen 
tleman  of  the  old  school.  The  white,  clean 
shaven  face,  the  thin  fine  hair,  once  brown  but 
now  softly  gray,  the  quiet  hazel  eyes,  the  firm 
and  sensitive  mouth,  the  strong  nose,  the  calm 
demeanor  and  the  kindly  ways,  betokened  a 
character  sound  by  nature  and  mellowed  by 
years. 

The  Squire  had  bought  the  old  hotel  and  had 
"fixed  it  up  mighty  spruce,"  as  Lige  Fessen- 
den  said,  for  his  home.  He  used  the  long  pub 
lic  room  on  the  river  side,  with  its  two  great  fire 
places,  as  his  place  of  business,  one  end  con 
taining  the  post  office,  while  the  rest  was  used 
as  a  store  in  which  were  kept  for  sale  sports 
men's  outfits  of  all  kinds  and  a  line  of  station 
ery,  periodicals,  and  confections. 

His  family  consisted  of  his  widowed  daugh- 


JAY   GOULD    HARMON         21 

ter,  Mrs.  Porter,  and  her  daughter  Helen,  now 
eighteen. 

Helen  was  the  light  and  joy  of  her  grand 
pa's  life.  When  not  at  school  she  spent  much 
of  her  time  in  the  store  and  post  office,  and  in 
his  absence  took  charge  of  the  business. 

One  of  the  great  fireplaces  was  still  kept  in 
commission,  and  roared  its  warm  welcome  to 
the  Squire's  many  friends,  old  and  young. 

During  the  long  winter  evenings  every 
chair,  box,  and  nail  keg  was  sure  to  be  occupied. 
Strangers  often  came  to  sit  in  that  fire-lit  cir 
cle,  drawn  by  the  gentle  force  of  an  uncon 
scious  hospitality,  to  listen  to  stories  "of 
moving  accident  by  flood  and  field,"  and  the 
quaint  sayings  and  strange  conceits  of  hunters, 
trappers,  guides,  rivermen,  peddlers,  and  the 
ubiquitous  drummer. 

The  instinctive  respect  which  men  felt  for 
the  character  of  the  Squire  never  admitted  of 
vulgar  or  profane  conversation.  In  fact,  this 
"back-log  circle"  of  the  democracy  of  that 
northern  border  was  not  only  the  parliament  of 
the  town  but  its  academy  of  entertainment,  f  ul- 


22          JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

filled  the  functions  of  the  theater,  opera,  and 
lecture-room. 

On  the  morning  that  our  story  opens  the 
Squire  was  regulating  the  chairs,  boxes,  and 
nail  kegs  that  had  been  left  the  night  before 
in  their  usual  confusion,  when  he  heard  a  heavy 
step  on  the  porch,  and  turned  to  greet  big  Eli 
jah  Fessenden,  the  "reformed  blacksmith," 
with  his  cheerful  "Good-morning,  Elijah!" 

"  Good-morning,  Squire.  I'm  toler'ble,  con 
sidering  that  I  have  to  fight  with  Lige  the 
First  most  of  the  time.  But  I  think  I  am  get 
ting  the  better  of  him,  Squire.  I  didn't  allow 
him  to  swear  once  yesterday.  He  came  purty 
nigh  it  when  I  burnt  my  finger  on  my  hot  iron, 
but  Lige  the  Second  just  threatened  to  march 
Lige  the  First  up  Webb's  hill  if  he  broke  out 
with  any  swear  words.  That  sort  of  held  him 
back.  But  he  got  away  with  one  of  Lige  the 
Second's  legs,  and  came  durn  nigh  kicking 
poor  Bige  Crabtree  out  of  the  shop.  I'm  doin' 
my  best,  Squire,  to  live  a  decent  life.  I  can't 
be  a  Christian  all  to  onct.  There's  a  good  deal 
of  me  to  reform.  You  know  what  Falstaff 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON         23 

says:  'Thou  see'st  I  have  more  flesh  than 
another  man,  and  therefore  more  frailty.' 
Well,  that's  just  the  matter  with  me,  Squire. 
There's  so  much  of  me  to  be  mean." 

"Don't  be  too  hard  on  yourself,  Elijah," 
said  the  Squire  kindly.  ;'  We  are  all  but '  chil 
dren  of  a  larger  growth.'  You  have  done  well. 
]\To  man  has  seen  you  drunk  for  more  than  a 
3rear,  and  you  were  always  kind-hearted  and 
honest  by  nature.  We  all  think  you've  got 
Lige  the  First  down,  and  will  keep  him  there." 

'  You're  right,  Squire.  I'll  keep  him  down, 
if  I  have  to  drown  him  to  do  it;  but  he  has  got 
so  that  when  I  threaten  the  trip  up  Webb's  hill, 
which  is  a  mile  long  and  durn  near  a  mile  high, 
he  generally  knuckles  down.  As  Shakespeare 
says,  he  don't  like  'eating  the  bitter  bread  of 
banishment,'  and  I  banish  him  to  the  top  of  the 
hill  every  time  he  breaks  loose.  But  come  here, 
Squire,  quick.  I'll  be  dog-goned  if  I  can  make 
it  out." 

"  What  is  it,  Elijah? "  said  the  Squire,  going 
to  the  door,  where  Lige  stood  looking  towards 
the  road. 


24,         JAY    GOULD    HARMON. 

"Look  thar." 

The  Squire's  eyes  followed  the  direction  of 
Lige's  pointing  finger,  and  he  saw  Major 
Crosby's  blackboard  moving  slowly  along  with 
the  Major  and  his  daughter  Lois  on  the  seat, 
while  on  the  springboard  floor  behind  sat  Jim 
Gramme  holding  the  bandaged  head  of  a  pros 
trate  man.  They  had  turned  from  the  main 
road  and  were  moving  through  the  pine  grove 
that  partly  concealed  the  Major's  log  house  at 
Sunny  Point,  on  the  shores  of  the  river. 

"What  do  you  calc'late  this  means?  Did 
you  see  how  pale  the  Major  was?'* 

The  Squire's  face  wore  a  serious  look. 
"  You'd  better  go  right  down  and  see  what  the 
trouble  is.  I  fear  that  Albert  has  been  hurt 
on  the  drive,  and  that  they  are  bringing  him 
home.  It  would  be  a  terrible  blow  to  the 
Major  if  anything  should  happen  to  his  son. 
Since  he  was  obliged  to  resign  his  position  as 
principal  of  the  academy,  owing  to  his  old 
wound  'breaking  out'  again,  he  has  built  his 
hopes  more  and  more  on  that  boy.  You  had 
better  take  along  the  doctor.  As  soon  as  I 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON         25 

distribute  the  mail  I'll  come  down  and  see  what 
can  be  done." 

The  big-hearted  blacksmith  needed  no 
urging,  but  was  off  at  once,  while  the  Squire 
entered  the  post  office  and  proceeded  to  dis 
tribute  the  mail. 

"  Good-morning,  Mr.  Gray,"  said  a  thin, 
sharp  voice  at  the  little  window  of  the  post 
office. 

"  Good-morning,  Miss  Abby,"  replied  the 
Squire  pleasantly,  without  looking  up  from 
his  work. 

"How  well  you  are  looking  this  morning," 
said  the  insinuating  voice,  trying  to  modulate 
itself  into  sweetness.  "  Why,  you  are  renew 
ing  your  life  like  the  beagle."  This  was  fol 
lowed  by  a  gurgling  "tee-hee,  tee-hee." 

There  was  no  reply. 

"Are  there  any  letters  for  Sarah  Whit- 
comb?" 

"I  think  not." 

"Any  for  Maria  Cornish?" 

"No." 

"Just  what  I  thought.     Maria  says  she  is 


26         JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

corresponding  with  a  man  down  in  Argyle  and 
that  they  are  going  to  be  married  by-and-by. 
Well,  I  don't  believe  it.  I  ain't  seen  her  get 
any  letters,  and  I've  wratched  every  mail  that's 
come  for  a  week. 

"Have  you  heard  the  news,  Squire?"  she 
continued. 

"What  news?" 

"Why,  they  do  say  that  John  Crosby  is 
going  to  enclose  on  the  message  that  he  holds 
on  Sunny  Point,  and  turn  the  Major  out.  I'm 
sorry  for  the  Major,  but  I'd  like  to  see  those 
two  girls  of  his  taken  down.  They  say  John 
Crosby  was  ashamed  to  turn  his  brother  out 
himself,  so  he  sold  the  message  to  John  Sparks 
of  Greensburg.  You  know  Sparks  has  no 
mercy  for  anyone."  Then  crowding  her  head 
farther  into  the  window,  and  trying  to  look 
gushingly  sweet,  she  said  confidentially,  "  Bige 
Crabtree  is  still  making  up  to  me,  Squire,  but 
there  is  only  one  I  really  care  for." 

"  Look  here,"  said  an  impatient  voice  behind 
her,  "  look  here,  my  ancient  Abby.  If  you  can 
stop  courtin'  the  Squire  long  enough  for  me  to 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON         27 

do  a  little  business  with  the  U.  S.  Gov.  I'll  be 
much  obleeged  to  ye." 

She  pulled  her  head  out  of  the  window  and 
turned  to  see  big  Jake  Cornish,  the  brother  of 
Maria,  looking  down  on  her,  half  frowning, 
half  smiling,  as  he  took  her  place  at  the 
window. 

There  was  a  flash  of  anger  in  her  small  black 
eyes  as  she  said,  "  Jake  Cornish,  you've  got  no 
more  regard  for  the  delicate  feelings  of  a 
woman  than  a  bear!  There,  now! " 

But  Jake,  who  was  busy  with  the  "U.  S. 
Gov.,"  did  not  seem  to  hear  her.  At  this  mo 
ment  Helen  came  tripping  in,  and,  seeing  Miss 
Abby  Smart,  remarked  with  a  mischievous 
smile  on  her  face: 

"  Miss  Abby,  there  is  a  real  nice  little  man 
waiting  to  see  you  on  the  porch." 

"  Dare  say,"  said  the  relieved  spinster.  Turn 
ing  to  Cornish,  who  was  looking  over  his  mail, 
she  said  with  an  air  of  triumph,  "  Did  you  hear 
that,  Jake  Cornish?"  Then  rushing  up  to  the 
window  again,  she  said  dulcetly,  "  Good-morn 
ing,  Squire  Gray." 


28         JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

"  Good-morning,  Miss  Smart,"  said  the 
Squire,  with  a  noticeable  touch  of  impatience 
in  his  voice. 

"  Oh,  by  the  way,  Squire,  is  there  any  letters 
for  me?" 

"  Not  this  morning." 

"  There  hasn't  been  for  twenty  years," 
growled  Cornish,  half  audibly,  and  addressing 
her  directly  he  said,  "  What  are  you  going  to 
give  my  sister  Maria  for  her  wedding  present? 
She  is  going  to  be  married  next  month." 

Miss  Abby  looked  at  him  in  astonishment, 
then  flounced  out,  saying,  "  Well,  I'll  just  wait 
until  I  hear  the  wedding  bells  ring  and  see  the 
orange  blossoms." 

"  Both  ordered,  Abby,"  said  the  imperturb 
able  Jake. 

'You're  a  little  hard  on  Miss  Smart,  aren't 
you,  Jacob?  Don't  forget  she's  a  woman," 
said  the  Squire,  standing  at  the  open  door  of 
the  post  office. 

"That's  just  what  I  don't  forget.  She's 
been  a  woman  long  enough  to  know  something. 
What  right  has  she  to  come  here  and  plug  up 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON         29 

that  post  office  like  a  cork  in  a  bottle  while  there 
is  a  dozen  of  us  around  here  waiting  for  our 
mail?  Did  you  hear  her  fling  out  about  my 
sister,  Squire?  That  sort  of  riled  me.  She's 
constituted  herself  a  telephone  system  of  mis 
information  for  the  whole  town.  She's  a  sort 
of  hear-it-all,  know-it-all,  tell-it-all.  Such 
women  make  lots  of  trouble  in  a  neighborhood. 
One  such  in  a  State  might  do,  but  one  in  a 
town  is  too  many." 

Just  at  this  juncture  Jim  Gramme  came  in, 
and  going  directly  to  Mr.  Gray  said  in  an  ex 
cited  whisper,  "  Mr.  Gray,  Dr.  Finnegan  says 
you  must  come  right  down  to  the  Major's. 
There's  like  to  be  bloodshed.  You're  the  only 
man,  he  says,  who  can  prevent  it.  You  mustn  t 
let  anyone  know  it,  for  they'd  aU  come  running 
down  to  see  the  fight." 

"  The  fight,  James!  Why,  what  has  hap 
pened?" 

"Do  come,  Mr.  Gray,  before  anyone  hears 
of  it,  and  I'U  tell  you  all  about  it  as  we  go 
along." 

The  Squire  turned  to  Helen,  saying,  "  Don't 


30          JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

tell  anyone  where  I've  gone.     Just  say  I'm 
out." 

As  they  moved  towards  the  Major's, 
Gramme  recounted  what  the  reader  has  already 
learned  up  to  the  time  of  their  arrival  at  Major 
Dan's  house.  Gramme,  continuing,  said  they 
put  the  fellow  in  Albert's  room  at  the  wing  of 
the  house.  The  doctor  had  just  got  there,  and 
was  dressing  the  wound,  when  Constable  Jones 
with  his  man  drove  up  with  John  Crosby  and  a 
black-looking  fellow  called  Sapient,  and  said 
they  had  come  to  arrest  the  man  the  Major  had 
taken  pity  on,  for  attempting  to  kill  the  watch 
man  and  for  robbing  the  bank  at  Greensburg. 
The  Major  met  this  constable  at  the  door  and 
asked  him  if  he  had  a  warrant  for  the  man's 
arrest,  and  the  constable  said  no,  but  they  had 
a  witness  with  them  who  had  testified  that  he 
saw  this  man  and  another  drive  hurriedly  out 
of  Greensburg  towards  South  Greensburg 
about  the  time  the  bank  was  robbed.  He  knew 
it  was  the  same  man,  on  account  of  the  strange 
helmet  hat  he  wore,  made  of  straw.  '  There 
is  the  hat  now,"  said  the  constable,  "  right  there 


31 

on  the  fire  frame."  He  was  the  man,  no  doubt, 
and  he  was  going  to  take  him. 

The  Major  stepped  back  and  got  Albert's 
Winchester,  and  standing  in  the  doorway  said 
to  the  constable,  "  This  man  is  my  guest,  Mr. 
Jones,  and  he  is  terribly  hurt,  and  until  you 
bring  a  warrant  for  his  arrest  you  can't  enter 
this  house  nor  arrest  this  man." 

There  was  a  look  on  the  Major's  face  that 
the  doctor  said  meant  business.  Lige  had  the 
big  fire  poker  and  ranged  himself  alongside  of 
the  Major,  and  instead  of  swearing  at  the 
crowd  outside  was  quoting  Shakespeare  at 
them  by  the  yard. 

"  They  are  at  it  yet.  Do  you  hear  'em? " 
said  Jim. 

The  Squire  made  no  reply,  but  entered  the 
front  door  and  crossed  the  living  room  into  the 
wing  bedroom,  at  the  back  of  the  house. 

The  Major  still  stood  in  the  door  with  the 
Winchester.  Lige  was  saying,  "  You  hold  the 
right,  Major,  and  I'll  take  care  of  the  center 
and  see  that  no  one  flanks  us.  I  ain't  had  so 
much  fun  since  Antietam."  Addressing  John 


32         JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

Crosby  he  continued,  "  Come  on,  you  '  fat  and 
greasy  citizen,'  and  you  too  (addressing  Cros 
by's  witness),  you  'hatchet  faced  Spaniard, 
with  forehead  villainously  low!'  Come  on, 
and  die  on  a  fire  hook!" 

"Don't  take  any  notice  of  that  interfering 
fool  of  a  blacksmith,  constable,  but  do  your 
duty,"  said  John  Crosby,  his  face  purple  with 
rage. 

"  I'd  rather  have  a  fool  to  make  me  merry, 
John,  than  experience  to  make  me  sad,"  replied 
Lige. 

The  constable  advanced  as  if  to  enter,  Lige 
raised  the  iron  poker,  the  Major,  white  to  the 
lips,  said,  "At  your  peril,  Constable  Jones!" 

This  was  the  situation  when  the  Squire  ap 
peared  at  the  door  just  back  of  the  two  deter 
mined  men.  He  made  a  signal  for  attention, 
which  was  respected.  The  constable  stepped 
back  from  the  door,  and  said,  "  Squire  Gray, 
who  is  right  in  this  matter?  I  leave  it  with 
you." 

"  Constable  Jones,"  said  the  Squire,  "  you 
should  know  enough  of  law  to  understand  that 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON         33 

you  are  proceeding  illegally.  It  appears  that 
on  mere  suspicion,  and  the  hearsay  of  this 
man,"  pointing  to  Sapient,  "  who  is  as  much  a 
stranger  to  us  as  the  injured  man  in  this  bed, 
you  have  come  here  without  a  warrant,  to 
deprive  an  American  citizen  of  his  liberty. 
Is  there  anyone  here  who  knows  this  witness? " 

"  I  know  him,"  growled  John  Crosby,  "  and 
can  vouch  for  him." 

"  How  long  have  you  known  him? "  inquired 
the  Squire  pointedly. 

"Well,  I've  known  him  nearly  two  weeks, 
and  I  bought  bonds  and  stocks  of  him." 

"  Well,  that  will  not  affect  the  fact  that  you 
are  proceeding  illegally,  and  that  you  cannot 
take  the  body  of  this  man  from  this  or  any 
other  house  without  a  warrant,  unless  someone 
can  swear  they  saw  him  in  the  act  of  assaulting 
the  watchman  and  robbing  the  bank." 

"  I  guess  you're  right,  Squire,"  said  the  con 
stable,  rather  crestfallen,  "though  I'm  pretty 
sure  he's  the  man  we  want." 

" '  A  Daniel  come  to  judgment,  yea,  a  Dan 
iel,'  "  cried  the  delighted  blacksmith. 


34         JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

"  Squire  Gray,"  said  the  constable,  "  if  you 
will  give  me  your  word  that  this  man  shall  not 
escape  while  I  take  the  time  to  go  and  secure  a 
warrant,  I  will  drop  the  matter  for  the  present 
and  proceed  as  you  say." 

"  This  is  scarcely  necessary,  Mr.  Jones.  I 
have  been  talking  with  the  injured  man,  and 
while  he  is  too  ill  even  to  rise  in  the  bed,  he  is 
yet  strong  enough  to  testify  in  his  own  behalf. 
He  has  asked  me  to  say  to  you  that  if  you  will 
come  to  the  bedside,  after  sending  away  the 
men  outside,  he  will  satisfy  you  that  he  cannot 
possibly  be  the  man  who  robbed  the  bank  at 
Greensburg  last  night.  He  has  overheard  the 
conversation  and  understands  the  charges  made 
against  him.  If  he  cannot  satisfy  all  of  us  of 
his  innocence,  as  justice  of  the  peace  I  will 
guarantee  that  he  shall  not  escape  from  the 
hands  of  the  law,  but  shall  be  detained  here 
until  you  have  time  to  secure  your  warrant  and 
arrest  him  legally.  Are  you  satisfied  to  do 
this?" 

"Perfectly,  Squire  Gray." 

"  Then  come  in." 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON         35 

When  the  constable  had  entered  Lige  shut 
the  door  almost  in  the  face  of  John  Crosby  and 
his  witness.  In  a  few  minutes  they  drove  off, 
leaving  Major  Crosby,  the  constable,  Lige  Fes- 
senden  and  the  Squire  around  the  bed  of  the 
suspected  man. 

The  injured  man  had  been  pillowed  up  in 
bed.  As  he  glanced  at  the  four  inquiring 
faces  about  him,  not  one  seemed  unfriendly, 
but  all  bore  varying  expressions  of  interest. 

"  Now  tell  your  story,"  said  the  Squire. 

"  I  think,"  said  the  man,  "  that  it  would  be  a 
wiser  proceeding  if  you  or  the  constable  would 
question  me." 

"  Quite  right,"  said  the  Squire.  "  Mr.  Jones, 
as  you  are  the  one  most  interested,  you  do  the 
questioning." 

Constable  Jones  had  heard  nothing.  His 
eyes  had  been  fixed  upon  the  splendid  figure 
before  him.  The  broad  shoulders,  the  deep 
chest,  the  strong  columnar  neck,  the  dark,  ex 
pressive  eyes,  the  black  hair  that  curled  around 
the  faultless  Grecian  head,  the  rich  tones  of 
the  voice,  the  shapely  hands ;  everything  about 


36          JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

the  man  was  startlingly  unexpected  to  this 
rough  but  honest  constable,  who  had  come,  as 
he  thought,  to  arrest  a  wretched  and  repulsive 
criminal. 

"Why  don't  you  begin,  Mr.  Jones?"  said 
Major  Crosby,  whose  faith  in  his  strange  guest 
had  not  faltered  one  moment. 

"Oh,  yes! — Oh,  yes! — let  me  see — ah — ah — 
why  Squire,  you  ask  him;  you  know  how 
better." 

"  Very  well,  Mr.  Jones." 

A  look  of  relief  came  over  the  faces  of 
Major  Crosby  and  Lige  Fessenden,  and  the 
eyes  of  the  stranger  turned  towards  the  Squire. 

"May  we  ask  your  name? "  asked  the 
Squire. 

"  Gould— Jay  Gould— of  New  York." 

The  Squire  looked  keenly  at  the  sick  man  as 
he  gave  his  name  as  Jay  Gould,  evidently  ques 
tioning  his  sincerity  or  his  frankness.  The  look 
was  quickly  observed,  and  as  quickly  inter 
preted  by  the  pseudo-tramp,  who  at  once  ex 
plained  : 

"  You  wonder  at  mv  name.    It  is  not  all  of 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON         37 

it.  For  good  reasons  I  prefer  to  be  known  by 
only  a  portion  of  my  name.  That  which  I 
have  given  you  is  mine.  My  mother's  name 
was  Gould,  but  she  did  not  belong  to  the  great 
financier's  family.  My  father  so  admired  the 
famous  Jay  Gould  that  he  insisted  upon  nam 
ing  me  for  him.  At  present  I  do  not  choose 
to  be  known  by  my  father's  name.  I  do  not 
wish  to  assume  a  name  I  have  no  claim  upon, 
so  I  compromise  with  my  conflicting  senti 
ments  and  call  myself  by  my  given  and  middle 
names." 

"I  have  no  right  to  question  either  your 
name,  or  your  motive  for  using  less  than  all 
of  it,"  said  the  Squire.  "  Where  did  you  stop 
last  night,  Mr.  Gould?" 

"  At  South  Greensburg,  at  the  house  of  Mr. 
Alexander." 

The  answer  was  so  simple  and  direct  that  the 
eyes  of  the  listeners  searched  each  other  with 
knowing  expressions. 

"  Were  you  in  Greensburg  last  night?  You 
heard  the  witness  say  that  he  saw  you  with 
another  man  driving  swiftly  out  of  town.' 


38         JAY   GOULD    HARMON 

"Yes,  sir.  I  was  in  Greensburg  last  night, 
and  there  was  another  man  with  me.  I  did 
drive  swiftly  in  and  swiftly  out  of  the  town." 

The  Major  looked  troubled,  and  so  did  the 
Squire.  Lige  shook  his  head  dubiously,  while 
the  constable  looked  about  with  a  puzzled 
expression. 

Then  Gould  continued,  while  his  auditors 
listened  with  close  attention:  "Mr.  Alexander, 
as  you  probably  know,  is  manager  of  the  Spool 
Works  at  South  Greensburg.  He  was  very 
kind  to  me,  and  we  had  a  long  friendly  talk 
before  I  retired.  In  the  night  Mrs.  Alexan 
der  was  taken  suddenly  ill.  Her  husband 
came  to  my  room  and  asked  me  if  I  would  do 
him  the  favor  of  going  for  the  doctor  at 
Greensburg.  I  arose  hastily  and  dressed.  Mr. 
Alexander's  carriage  was  waiting  at  the  door, 
and  I  drove  as  fast  as  possible,  both  ways,  and 
in  one  hour  the  doctor  was  at  the  bedside  of  the 
sick  woman.  If  I  have  told  the  truth,  gentle 
men,  this  will  account  for  my  being  in  Greens 
burg  last  night.  You  can  easily  verify  this 
by  telephone  or  telegraph  to  Mr.  Alexander." 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON         39 

Closing  his  eyes  wearily  the  man  ceased 
speaking. 

Major  Crosby  was  still  standing  at  the  foot 
of  the  bed,  with  a  look  of  inexpressible  relief 
upon  his  face.  The  constable  from  his  chair 
at  the  side  of  the  bed  still  gazed  at  Gould  as 
if  fascinated  and  hypnotized  into  inaction  of 
both  mind  and  body.  Lige  got  up,  and  with  a 
long  grunt  of  satisfaction  walked  towards  the 
fireplace  saying,  "  Thar's  a  man  '  more  sinned 
against  than  sinning.' ' 

The  good  Squire  placed  his  hand  gently 
upon  the  brow  of  the  exhausted  man.  He  said 
in  sympathetic  tones,  "  Don't  try,  Mr.  Gould, 
to  say  any  more.  I  believe  every  word  you 
have  spoken."  And  he  turned  interrogatively 
toward  Constable  Jones. 

"  And  so  do  I,"  said  that  worthy  officer. 

"Amen!"  chanted  Lige.  He  continued, 
" '  A  hit,  a  very  palpable  hit.' ' 

"  Constable  Jones,"  said  the  Major  almost 
sternly,  "  your  course  is  plain.  Go  to  Greens- 
burg  at  once.  While  we  all  believe  what  this 
man  has  said,  it  is  due  to  him  as  well  as  the 


40         JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

people  at  Greensburg  to  verify  it.  Having 
done  this,  let  every  man  in  Greensburg  know 
that  they  have  been  on  the  wrong  trail  and  have 
persecuted  an  innocent  man." 

"  I'll  do  it,"  said  the  constable  with  an  unc 
tion  that  left  no  doubt  in  the  minds  of  his  hear 
ers  of  the  sincerity  of  his  purpose.  As  he 
passed  out,  Lige  asked  this  question : 

"  I  say,  Jones,  who  is  that  lank,  hatchet- 
faced,  ferret-eyed,  lantern- jawed  witness  of 
John  Crosby's  that  was  so  mighty  ready  to 
give  his  testimony?  How  did  it  happen  that 
he  was  hanging  around  Greensburg  at  one  or 
two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  saw  so  durn 
much?  Chew  upon  that  view  of  the  case,  Con 
stable  Jones." 

Jones  stopped  and  looked  thoughtful  for  a 
moment,  then  said,  "I  don't  exactly  know. 
He's  been  around  the  hotel  some  two  or  three 
weeks.  I've  seen  him  driving  with  John  Crosby 
several  times,  and  he  says  he  is  an  agent  for  a 
syndicate  house  in  Chicago.  You  heard  Crosby 
say  he  had  bought  bonds  of  him.  But  I  must 
go." 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON         41 

"Well,"  said  Lige,  muttering  to  himself, 
"I'll  bet  a  cock  partridge  that  he's  an  agent 

for  the  de — de — de Hold  on  there,  Lige 

First.  Keep  down.  There's  no  opening  here 
for  you." 

Lige  entered  the  long  bedroom  and  was 
pleased  to  see  that  Doctor  Finnegan  had  come 
in,  and  was  giving  orders  for  the  stranger's 
comfort. 

"What  have  you  in  your  grip,  my  good 
man?" 

Gould  looked  up  and  said,  "There  is  a 
change  of  underwear,  two  night-dresses  and 
other  necessary  articles,  and  a  little  money." 

"  Money  is  it,"  said  the  astonished  Irish  doc 
tor.  "Well,  faith,  you're  no  tramp  if  you 
have  got  money,  I'll  gamble  on  that.  Did  you 
hear  that,  Major?  He  has  money!  I'll  do 
my  best  for  him." 

"  Anyone  would  think  to  hear  you  talk,  Dr. 
Finnegan,  that  it  was  the  money  and  not  the 
man  that  you  was  thinking  of." 

"Devil  a  bit,  Major.  I  was  only  surprised 
at  his  confession.  You  see,  if  he  had  robbed 


42          JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

that  bank  he  never  would  admit  that  he  had 
money.  See,  Major?  See?" 

"  That's  a  good  point,  doctor ;  but  what  shall 
we  do?" 

"  Whist  now  to  what  I  am  telling.  His  head 
is  all  right.  Have  that  foine  girl  of  yours  make 
some  hot  bafe  soup.  And,  Major,  you  and  I 
will  give  him  a  nice  warm  bath,  and  put  that 
shroud  of  his  on,  and  we'll  go  away,  every  one 
of  us,  and  let  him  sleep.  But  he's  a  wonder, 
Major.  Did  you  notice  his  muscle?  An  arm 
like  a  Sullivan." 

After  he  had  been  bathed,  and  a  change  of 
clothing  had  been  effected,  they  told  him  to 
try  and  sleep.  Darkening  the  room,  they 
quietly  went  out,  closed  the  door,  and  Jay 
Gould  slept. 


CHAPTER  III 

WHEN  Gould  awoke  it  was 
morning.  He  had  slept  nearly 
eighteen  hours.  At  first  he  could 
not  recall  where  he  was.  Had  he  been  dream 
ing?  He  still  saw  in  his  mind's  eye  the 
face  of  the  pitying  girl  bending  above  him 
in  gentle  benignity.  Nothing  more  holy,  more 
pure,  had  he  ever  seen,  unless  it  was  the  re 
membrance  of  his  mother,  who  when  he  was 
a  child  would  gaze  at  him  with  love  and  won 
der,  which  he  now  recalled  only  to  give  him 
pain,  for  she  had  left  him  when  he  was  yet  a 
tender  child,  and  only  the  memory  of  the  love 
that  had  been  his  remained.  But  he  had  seen 
in  the  face  of  this  girl  something  which  re 
deemed  the  woman  of  his  world,  false,  vain,  and 
heartless  as  he  had  found  her.  This  was  what 
the  voice  of  his  inner  consciousness  was  saying, 
but  another  voice  sternly  admonished  him  to 

43 


44 

"trust  not,  relent  not,"  for  had  he  not  been 
betrayed,  deceived,  and  cast  aside,  his  hopes 
crushed,  his  love  spurned — and  by  a  woman? 
Had  he  not  found  man  more  helpful,  more  ten 
der  and  trusting,  even  while  circumstances 
were  against  him?  Yet  there  would  come  to 
his  memory  that  cry  of  pity  that  he  had  but 
faintly  heard:  "Uncle,  uncle!  You've  killed 
him!  You've  killed  him!"  He  could  still 
feel  the  touch  of  the  protecting  arms,  see  in 
her  pure  eyes  a  soul  abandoned  to  pity,  that 
look  of  sympathy  that  can  shine  in  utter  prod 
igality  only  from  a  woman's  soul. 

His  strange  illness  had  dulled  his  senses. 
His  feeling  of  utter  friendlessness  had  made 
him  wretched  beyond  degree.  Young  as  he 
was,  he  had  lived  long  but  not  well.  He  had 
tasted  of  nearly  every  pleasure,  and  found 
much  of  the  fruit  bitter.  All  the  world  had 
served  him;  he  had  served  no  one.  By  nature 
he  was  noble,  but  in  the  vain,  pretentious,  and 
hollow  society  in  which  he  had  moved  he  had 
learned  to  hate  the  world,  to  mistrust  the  sin 
cerity  of  nearly  all  men,  and  all  women.  The 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON         45 

worthlessness  of  his  life  he  had  come  to  realize. 
The  world  of  pomp  and  circumstance,  of  heart- 
lessness  and  deceit,  had  no  longer  a  place  for 
him.  His  instinct  told  him  that  in  work  was 
his  salvation.  The  world's  workers  com 
manded  of  him  a  growing  respect.  He  saw  in 
them  the  dynamic  force  that  was  moving  the 
world,  self-generating,  and  conducting  its 
energy  along  the  live  wires  of  human  endea 
vors  to  the  ends  of  the  earth.  He  felt  that  he 
was  insulated,  detached  from  the  circuit  of 
energy,  unproductive,  worthless — a  dead  wire. 

Disgusted  with  society  and  with  himself,  he 
had  bent  his  steps,  with  the  instinct  of  primal 
man,  to  the  land  of  forest  and  streams,  for 
which  somehow  his  heart  yearned,  for  to  him  it 
seemed  that  "Beside  the  still  waters,  and  in 
green  pastures  "  he  might  find  that  strength, 
that  healing,  that  "balm  of  Gilead,"  that  his 
soul  craved. 

Our  hero,  as  we  may  now  call  him,  drew  him 
self  up  and  looked  around.  Yes,  he  remem 
bered  somewhat  dimly  where  he  was.  Al 
though  the  log  room  was  unfamiliar,  he 


46         JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

gradually  recollected  his  experience  of  the  day 
before.  The  strange  little  doctor  with  his  red 
hair  and  his  fat  and  jolly  face;  the  attempted 
arrest;  the  unaccountable  interest  and  tender 
care  of  his  host — a  care,  a  friendliness  so  mani 
fest  that  it  came  to  him  as  a  new  and  startling 
revelation,  for  it  was  a  manifestation  of  unself 
ishness  never  experienced  by  him  before. 

He  could  hear  footsteps  moving  about  in 
the  adjoining  room,  and  short  snatches  of  song 
from  lips  which  he  knew  were  red  with  youth. 
The  silent  logs  of  the  wall  hemmed  him  in  with 
their  protective  massiveness.  The  rude  stone 
fireplace  in  which  a  great  log  slowly  burned  for 
ventilation  lent  a  cheer  to  the  room.  Over  the 
rough  mantle  hung  a  Winchester  rifle,  and 
near  it  the  equipments  of  the  guide  and  hunter. 
There  were  books  lying  on  a  table  near  the  win 
dow;  a  large  home-made  settle  stood  near  the 
fireplace,  and  two  or  three  rocking  chairs 
fashioned  out  of  native  trees  were  scattered 
about  the  room.  On  the  floor  were  several 
rugs  of  deer,  bear,  and  wolf  hides.  There  was 
an  air  of  comfort  and  restfulness  all  about 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON         47 

him  that  was  unknown  in  his  former  luxurious 
home. 

He  could  hear  the  low  music  of  the  moving 
waters,  and  through  the  partly  opened  window 
could  see  the  rugged  side  of  the  mountain,  and 
the  dipping  field  beneath  it.  He  was  close  to 
nature.  He  felt  a  thrill  of  tenderness  and 
love  for  her  that  he  had  never  known  before. 
He  thought  he  heard  steps  just  outside  the 
window.  He  knew  they  were  not  the  steps  of 
man  or  woman.  They  were  too  irregular  and 
hesitating.  He  raised  his  head,  and  saw  to  his 
amazement  a  fawn,  with  eyes  lustrous  with 
gentle  life,  looking  into  the  room,  and  a  little 
beyond  was  the  partly  disclosed  form  of  the 
mother  doe,  the  fairest  epics  of  the  woods. 
Could  he  believe  his  eyes?  Had  the  love  and 
kindness  that  had  so  unexpectedly  been  his 
also  been  extended  so  that  it  covered  the  beasts 
of  the  field  and  the  birds  of  the  air?  The  first 
sight  of  the  doe  had  caused  him  to  glance  at 
the  rifle,  that  he  might  slay;  but  the  fearless 
ness  of  these  gentle  beasts  drove  such  thoughts 
from  his  mind. 


48         JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

The  door  near  his  bed  was  quietly  opened, 
and  a  voice  said,  "Are  you  awake,  Mr. 
Gould?" 

"Yes,  sir.  How  long  have  I  been  sleep- 
ing?" 

"Nearly  eighteen  hours.  Are  you  feeling 
better?" 

"  Much  better,  sir.  How  can  I  thank  you? " 

"  By  getting  better  as  fast  as  possible.  Are 
you  strong  enough  to  dress  and  have  some 
breakfast?" 

"I  think  so,  sir.  My  head  feels  a  little 
dizzy  yet,  but  otherwise  I  am  quite  strong.  I 
beg  your  pardon,  sir,  but  I  am  interested  to 
know  how  it  happens  that  deer  are  so  social 
here.  Two  have  been  near  the  window  this 
morning,  and  the  little  one  looked  in.  I 
thought  deer  very  wild.  Are  they  tame  deer?  " 

"  Everything  is  tame  where  my  boy  and  girls 
are.  We  never  shoot  deer  on  our  premises, 
We  have  three  hundred  acres,  mostly  wood 
land.  The  deer  seem  to  understand  that  they 
are  safe  if  near  the  house.  In  the  winter 
Albert  feeds  them  hay,  and  my  two  daughters 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON         49 

scatter  on  the  snow  everything  that  the  kitchen 
affords.  Sometimes  I  fear  that  our  dog 
Trieve  doesn't  get  his  share.  I've  caught  a 
couple  of  trout  for  your  breakfast,  and  my 
daughter  Madeline  is  preparing  them  for  you." 

He  started  to  go  out,  but  returned,  saying, 
'  You  will  find  water,  towels,  and  soap  on  a 
bench  under  the  two  pipes  just  back  of  the 
house.  By  the  time  you  are  ready  your  break 
fast  will  be  served." 

Gould  arose  and  proceeded  to  dress.  In 
doing  so  he  discovered  that  his  clothes  had  been 
thoroughly  brushed  and  laid  out,  his  shoes 
cleaned,  and  his  pack  laid  within  easy  reach. 
As  he  stood  under  the  two  great  pines  in  the 
morning  light,  he  felt  rolling  down  upon  him 
the  fresh  air  of  the  forest.  It  seemed  charged 
with  life  and  hope.  How  sweet  and  invigor 
ating  it  was!  He  felt  a  new  strength.  This 
was  what  he  had  pined  for— the  native,  the 
primeval.  Had  the  morning  come,  and  the 
dark  chapter  closed?  Should  he  yet  be  happy? 
Could  he  forget  the  fruitless  past?  Then 
came  a  voice : 


50         JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

"Are  you  nearly  reacty,  Mr.  Gould?" 
and  he  turned  to  see  the  tall  form  of  his  host 
waiting  near  the  corner  of  his  bedroom,  with 
one  arm  laid  caressingly  over  the  shoulders 
of  the  fearless  doe,  while  the  dappled  fawn 
was  eating  from  his  hand. 

They  went  in  and  sat  down  to  the  breakfast 
table,  the  Major  serving.  Someone  entered. 

'  This  is  my  daughter  Madeline,  Mr. 
Gould."  He  looked  up  to  encounter  the  gaze 
of  a  remarkably  attractive  girl  of  about  fifteen 
summers.  She  held  in  one  hand  a  coffee  pot, 
in  the  other  a  plate  of  freshly  cooked  trout. 
Somehow,  embarrassed  as  she  was  by  these  bur 
dens,  the  man  of  society  took  note  that  she 
bowed  and  courtesied  with  surprising  grace 
and  ease,  saying: 

"  We  are  glad  that  you  are  able  to  breakfast 
with  us  this  morning.  Will  you  excuse  my 
running  in  and  out,  Mr.  Gould?" 

"My  little  girl,"  said  the  Major,  "is  very 
busy  these  days.  She  is  our  housekeeper,  for 
my  wife,"  he  said  slowly,  and  in  an  embarrassed 
manner,  "is  teaching  French  in  the  academy. 


"  He  turned  to  see  the  tall  form  of  his  host  " 


JAY   GOULD    HARMON         51 

My  daughter  Lois,  whom  you  met  yesterday, 
is  with  her  uncle.  Her  cousin,  little  Joey,  can 
not  go  to  school,  and  Lois  instructs  him  and 
helps  her  aunt.  My  son  Albert  is  on  the  drive. 
In  fact,  all  my  family  work  hard  but  me ;  I  can 
do  but  little." 

There  was  a  tone  of  sadness  in  the  Major's 
voice  as  he  concluded. 

"What  is  your  trouble,  Mr.  Crosby?" 
"I  was  wounded  in  the  lung  while  in  the 
army.  I  was  formerly  principal  of  the  acad 
emy  here,  but  had  to  resign  on  account  of  a 
tendency  to  hemorrhage.  The  doctor  said  I 
must  have  outdoor  life  or  I  would  not  live. 
I  have  much  to  live  for  and  am  trying  to  get 
back  my  health  that  I  may  enjoy  my  family. 
But  we  will  not  talk  about  that.  Eat  a  good 
breakfast,  and  then  go  into  Albert's  room  and 
lie  down  again  and  keep  quiet  until  you  are 
perfectly  strong.  I  shall  go  into  the  back 
meadow  and  try  and  make  a  little  hay.  I  will 
be  back  at  noon,  and  will  look  after  you  again. 
The  doctor  will  probably  come  to  see  you  this 
morning  and  dress  your  wound.  Make  your- 


52 

self  perfectly  at  home.  You  are  welcome  to 
my  house." 

The  voice  of  Daniel  Crosby  was  touchingly 
low  and  gentle.  There  were  deep  lines  of  care 
in  his  long  face,  and  when  he  spoke  of  his  fam 
ily  his  eyes  seemed  holding  back  tears. 

Gould  was  thinking  fast.  He  saw  every 
thing,  felt  everything.  His  soul  had  grown 
receptive.  He  felt  the  tender  pathos  of  his 
host's  kindly  spirit.  He  talked  but  little,  but 
as  he  arose  from  the  table  said,  "  I  have  en 
joyed  my  breakfast  very  much.  After  the 
visit  of  the  doctor  I  think  I  will  take  a  walk. 
I  have  a  check  for  some  baggage  which  was 
shipped  to  this  town  which  I  will  get." 

Here  the  Major  interrupted  him.  "Mr. 
Gould,  I  beg  your  pardon,  but  please  re 
member  that  I  feel  myself  responsible  to  the 
constable  for  you." 

Gould  blushed  to  the  roots  of  his  hair  as 
he  said,  "  I  forgot,  Major  Crosby,  I  forgot." 

They  moved  out  of  the  door  to  the  porch, 
and  the  Major  continued:  "Don't  misunder 
stand  me,  Mr.  Gould.  I  have  the  utmost 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON         53 

confidence  in  your  just  intentions,  but  the  town 
is  much  excited  over  what  occurred  yesterday, 
and  should  you  go  to  the  depot  I  fear  that  you 
would  be  embarrassed  by  my  curious  neigh 
bors  who  would  gather  about  you.  And  they 
probably  know  all  about  the  conditions  under 
which  Constable  Jones  desisted  from  making 
the  arrest.  Remain  about  here,  and  when  I 
return  at  noon  I  will  go  after  your  baggage. 
Feel  perfectly  at  liberty  to  walk  about  the 
woods  at  the  back  of  the  house,  in  fact  any 
where  but  up  town.  Here  comes  the  doctor. 
I  must  get  to  work." 

"One  moment,  Major  Crosby,  before  you 
leave.  There  is  something  due  you  from  me. 
I  am  a  stranger  to  you.  It  may  be  all  that 
your  brother  John  Crosby  charges  me  with  is 
true.  I  don't  know  that  I've  really  denied  it, 
and  you  have  not  asked.  Let  me  say,  my  new 
friend,"  and  there  was  a  deep  pathos  in  his 
voice,  "  in  my  own  defense,  that  you  are  not 
harboring  a  criminal  nor  a  tramp.  While  I 
am  most  unfortunate,  in  trouble,  and  friend 
less,  I  have  done  nothing  in  violation  of  any 


54          JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

law  of  man.  I  think  I  can  say  that  the  world 
would  call  me  respectable.  Furthermore, 
while  I  count  myself  a  poor  man,  yet  I  am 
removed  from  want  and  the  need  of  charity, 
except  such  charity  as  you  have  extended  to 
me  within  your  home — a  charity  I  did  not  think 
obtained  among  men.  This  is  all,  Major 
Crosby,  for  the  present." 

"And  how  do  I  find  you,  sorr,  this  morn 
ing?"  was  the  salutation  of  the  doctor  as  he 
shook  hands  with  the  patient. 

"  Quite  well,  I  thank  you.  I  slept  and  ate 
well." 

"And  how  is  the  head?"  said  the  doctor,  as 
he  began  to  undo  the  bandages.  "  I  think, 
sir,"  he  continued,  "that  you  had  better  step 
into  Albert's  room  while  I  dress  the  wound." 

Without  a  word  Gould  entered  the  room 
and  said,  "Where  will  you  have  me,  doctor?" 

"  Right  on  the  stool  there,  so  I  can  get  round 
you." 

There  was  something  about  the  little  man 
that  greatly  amused  Gould.  The  doctor 
was  very  short  and  rotund.  He  did  not  seem 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON         55 

to  have  any  neck,  his  head  resting  apparently 
on  his  shoulders;  the  hair  was  fiery  red,  the 
eyes  blue  and  bold,  the  complexion  ruddy  and 
fair,  save  for  the  great  freckles  like  brown 
islands  scattered  over  his  face.  He  had  a  true 
Irish  nose,  which  gave  him  a  mildly  bulldoggish 
expression.  There  was  something  about  him 
that  was  pleasing;  the  roguish  twinkle  of  his 
eye,  the  harmless  and  amusing  assertiveness, 
his  evident  pride  in  his  profession,  his  strutting 
little  walk,  the  short  bandy  legs — the  whole 
appearance  suggesting  a  glowing  globe  of 
flesh  running  around  on  little  legs  directed  by 
a  superimposed  smaller  globe  above.  But  as 
soon  as  this  curious-looking  man  began  to  dress 
the  wound,  Gould  knew  that  he  was  in  the 
hands  of  a  skilled  surgeon,  for  there  was  the 
firm  and  delicate  touch,  the  sure  and  swift 
movements,  of  which  only  a  trained  hand  is 
capable. 

"Do  I  hurt  you?" 

"A  little." 

"  You  are  no  liar.  There,  now,  I  think  that 
will  do  for  to-day.  The  cut  is  healing  on  the 


56         JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

first  intention.  I  think  you  had  better  take  a 
walk.  It'll  do  you  good." 

"  I  think  I  had  better  remain  until  we  hear 
from  Sheriff  Jones.  You  understand  the  con 
ditions,  I  think." 

"  Sure,  Mr.  Gould,  you  are  doing  the 
right  thing,  and  I'll  have  the  pleasure  of  telling 
John  Crosby  that  he  had  better  come  up  and 
take  lessons  in  honor  of  you.  But  here  comes 
the  Squire.  Good-morning,  Squire!  I  have 
the  youngster  up.  He  is  strong  enough  to  go 
to  jail  now,  if  Jones  comes  after  him." 

The  Squire  shook  hands  with  Gould,  say 
ing,  "  I  have  had  a  word  from  the  constable 
this  morning,  and  he  has  verified  what  you  said 
to  his  satisfaction.  Mr.  Sapient  has  mysteri 
ously  disappeared,  taking  with  him  two  hun 
dred  dollars  he  had  borrowed  of  Mr.  Crosby. 
There  is  a  strong  suspicion  that  Sapient  knows 
more  about  the  bank  robbery  than  he  would  be 
willing  to  tell." 

"Mr.  Gray,"  said  Gould,  "I  thank  you 
for  the  thoughtfulness  that  led  you  to  bring 
me  this  good  news  thus  early.  And  now,  Dr. 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON         57 

Finnegan,  when  do  you  think  that  I  will  be 
able  to  work?" 

"Work,  is  it?"  said  the  astonished  doctor. 
*  Thought  you  had  money." 

"  I  have  a  little,  but  not  enough  to  warrant 
my  remaining  in  idleness.  I  can  pay  you,  doc 
tor,  this  morning.  I  must  confess  my  surprise 
at  finding  so  excellent  a  doctor  so  far  removed 
from  a  city." 

"Do  you  hear  that,  Squire  Gray?  Faith, 
he  has  as  fine  tongue  as  he  has  head.  As  for 
my  bill,  Mr.  Gould,  we  will  let  that  go  as  a 
present.  I'll  come  to-morrow  and  dress  your 
head  and  make  your  better  acquaintance.  Top 
of  the  morning  to  you.  You  are  all  right  to 
work  a  little  any  time,  but  don't  get  over 
heated." 

Gould  found  himself  alone  with  the 
Squire.  He  had  been  greatly  impressed  with 
him  the  day  before.  There  were  some  things 
he  was  anxious  to  know,  and  here  was  a  man 
who  could  tell  him. 

"  Mr.  Gray,"  he  began,  "  I  desire  to  ask  you 
a  few  questions.  If  I  unwittingly  ask  any 


58         JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

that  you  do  not  care  to  answer,  directly  or 
indirectly,  I  will  so  construe  it  by  your  silence 
and  desist." 

"I  shall  be  pleased  to  answer  any  question 
you  will  probably  ask  me." 

"  Thanks.  My  first  question  is  this.  Has 
Mr.  John  Crosby  had  unfortunate  experiences 
with  tramps?" 

*  Yes,  rather  so.  Something  like  a  year  ago 
a  tramp  forced  himself  into  the  house  in  the 
day  time,  frightened  the  women  into  getting 
him  a  regular  meal,  ate  all  he  wanted,  and  then 
helped  himself  to  some  clothing  and  other 
things,  and  started  away.  But  John  Crosby 
and  Jim  Gramme  came  out  of  the  field  just  in 
time  to  catch  him.  Gramme  took  away  the 
stolen  goods,  and  ran  him  down  into  the  road, 
after  shaking  him  up  in  good  shape,  but  Crosby 
wasn't  satisfied.  He  loosed  the  dog,  Lion  (a 
savage  brute) ,  and  set  him  onto  the  man. 
Gramme  said  the  dog  would  have  killed  him 
if  he  hadn't  gone  to  the  man's  rescue  and 
dragged  him  off.  As  it  was,  the  man  was 
severely  hurt,  and  he  went  away  swearing  ven- 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON          59 

geance.  He  came  up  here,  and  Dr.  Finnegan, 
pitying  him  (for  he  has  got  a  heart  as  big  as 
an  ox),  cauterized  the  wounds,  got  the  man 
some  clothes,  and  sent  him  away  apparently  no 
worse  for  his  experience.  The  next  night  John 
Crosby's  barn  was  burnt,  down  near  the  river. 
A  few  days  later  his  fine  carriage  horse  was 
found  with  his  tail  cut  off  close  to  the  body, 
and  on  Crosby's  doorstep  was  found  a  piece  of 
paper  on  which  was  scrawled,  '  I  am  after 
you,  you  brute ! '  and  signed  '  Avenger.'  From 
that  day  Crosby  has  regarded  tramps  with  a 
fear  amounting  almost  to  terror,  and  I  sup 
pose  that  will  account  for  his  unwarranted 
treatment  of  you." 

"  Very  likely,  very  likely.  I  thought  at  the 
time  that  there  was  more  fear  than  rage  in  his 
manner.  Under  the  circumstances,  I  am  not 
surprised.  I  shall  bear  him  no  ill  will." 

"  This  is  very  commendable  in  you,"  said  the 
Squire. 

"  What  relation  does  my  host,  the  Major,  as 
they  call  him,  bear  to  John  Crosby?  Do  I 
understand  they  are  brothers?  There  is  not 


60         JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

the  least  resemblance,  but  from  something  I 
heard  I  conclude  there  is  some  relation." 

"  They  are  half-brothers,  but  only  in  name 
is  there  any  resemblance.  The  mother  of 
Major  Crosby  was  a  very  refined  but  a  very 
delicate  woman.  She  was  the  second  wife  of 
John's  and  Daniel's  father.  She  induced 
her  husband  to  give  Daniel  a  college  education, 
for  which  he  was  to  yield  up  one-half  of  his 
patrimony  to  John  at  the  time  of  his  father's 
death.  When  about  halfway  through  his  col 
lege  course  the  war  broke  out  and  he  enlisted. 
He  was  shot  through  the  lungs  at  Cold  Har 
bor,  and  returned  to  find  his  father  and  mother 
in  their  graves  and  his  brother  in  possession  of 
the  property.  He  soon  found  that  he  was  un 
welcome  at  his  old  home,  and  that  his  brother 
did  not  propose  to  give  up  any  part  of  the 
property  belonging  to  the  Major.  'Major 
Dan,'  as  his  neighbors  call  him,  shrunk  from 
the  disgrace  of  a  family  quarrel.  He  secured 
the  position  of  principal  at  our  academy  at 
Greensburg,  and  for  twenty  years  taught 
there.  Gradually  his  health  broke  down,  the 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON         61 

wound  showed  signs  of  reopening,  he  had  sev 
eral  attacks  of  hemorrhage,  and  the  doctor 
informed  him  that  he  could  not  live  if  he  con 
tinued  in  the  academy." 

After  a  moment's  pause,  Gould  asked, 
hesitatingly,  "Are  they  very  poor,  Mr. 
Gray?" 

'Yes,  they  are  poor  in  this  world's  goods, 
but  very  happy  in  each  other.  The  grace  and 
beauty  of  the  Major's  children  is  the  boast  of 
our  little  town.  Have  you  seen  Mrs.  Crosby? " 

"  I  have  not.  She  went  away  before  I  was 
called  to  breakfast,  but  the  young  lady  whom 
Major  Crosby  calls  his  housekeeper  is  strik 
ingly  graceful  and  attractive." 

The  Squire  noticed  that  he  made  no  mention 
of  Lois,  although  he  knew  that  Gould  could 
not  be  unmindful  of  what  she  had  done  for 
him  the  day  before.  After  a  while  the  Squire 
continued :  "  I  suppose  you  will  be  interested 
to  know  more  about  Major  Crosby  and  his 
family.  Somehow  it  is  borne  in  upon  me  to 
tell  you  that  their  situation  is  trying,  almost 
pitiable.  The  Major  tries  to  be  brave,  but 


62          JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

there  is  despair  in  his  eyes,  for  his  wife  is  slowly 
breaking  down.  You  see,  Mr.  Gould,  the 
story  is  this:  The  Major  married  Miss  de 
Neumoirs,  who  was  a  teacher  of  French  in  the 
academy.  Her  father  was  a  French  engineer 
and  had  married  an  English  girl,  much  against 
the  will  of  his  parents.  But  love  will  have  its 
way,  and  so  the  young  people  married  and 
came  to  Canada,  where  he  found  lucrative 
employment.  After  a  while  their  daughter 
was  born.  When  she  was  eighteen  word  came 
from  his  parents  in  France  that  if  he  would 
return  and  bring  his  family  all  would  be  for 
given.  The  ship  they  sailed  on  never  was 
heard  from  again.  Their  daughter,  who  had 
been  well  educated  and  was  an  accomplished 
musician,  had  been  left  in  America  in  order 
that  she  might  graduate  from  the  convent 
where  she  was  at  school.  Her  father  had  left 
some  property,  but  it  was  nearly  all  lost  in 
passing  through  the  hands  of  dishonest  law 
yers.  She  saw  an  advertisement  for  a  French 
teacher  in  the  academy  at  Greensburg.  She 
applied  for  and  secured  the  position.  The 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON         63 

Major  loved  her,  married  her,  and  the  union 
has  been  blessed  with  three  children.  Are  you 
interested? " 

"More  than  I  can  tell  you,"  said  Gould. 
"Will  you  continue?" 

"Well,  I  think  I'd  better,"  he  said,  noting 
the  intense  interest  in  the  face  of  Gould. 
'  The  Major  always  loved  Sunny  Point.  He 
had  money  enough  to  buy  this  little  farm  and 
about  a  hundred  acres  of  woodland,  and  build 
a  very  comfortable  frame  house.  But  he 
wanted  to  own  all  the  land  to  the  lake,  and 
partly  around  it,  so  he  mortgaged  his  place  to 
his  brother  to  raise  the  money  to  buy  the  wood 
land.  He  hadn't  been  a  month  in  his  new  home 
when  it  caught  fire  and  burned.  They  saved 
most  of  the  furniture,  including  the  books  and 
piano,  but  it  nearly  crushed  the  Major.  It 
brought  on  a  hemorrhage  and  his  life  was  de 
spaired  of.  His  wife  went  back  to  teaching. 
Albert,  who  was  preparing  for  college,  went 
on  the  drive  as  timekeeper  and  general  clerk. 
Lois  went  to  work  for  her  uncle,  caring  for 
their  crippled  boy  and  helping  her  aunt,  her 


64         JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

wages  going  towards  the  interest  account.  I 
meant  to  tell  you  that  the  neighbors  all  got 
together  and  in  about  sixty  days  put  up  this 
fine  log  house.  One  gang  would  work  two 
days;  and  the  next,  two  days;  and  so  they 
worked  until  the  family  could  move  in.  And 
between  you  and  me,  I  think  it  just  as  com 
fortable  as  the  frame  house,  but  a  great  many 
town  folks  think  it's  a  great  come-down  to  the 
Major  and  his  family  to  live  in  a  log  house.  I 
learned  yesterday  that  the  Major  hasn't  been 
able  to  pay  the  interest  on  the  thousand  dollars 
he  borrowed  from  John  Crosby,  for  two  years, 
and  that  John  has  sold  the  mortgage  to  a  man 
in  Greensburg,  who  will  show  no  mercy  to  the 
Major.  The  Major  is  a  man  who  will  never 
whine  or  complain.  He  will  go  down  to  pov 
erty  and  want  without  a  whimper,  as  far  as  he 
is  concerned ;  but  it  is  the  thought  of  his  family 
that  is  worrying  him  to  death." 

"Will  not  his  brother  come  to  his  rescue? 
Is  it  possible  that  he  would  see  the  Major 
driven  out  of  his  home? " 

"  You'd  think  so,  wouldn't  you,"  replied  the 


65 

Squire,  "  seeing  that  John  Crosby  is  the  richest 
man  in  our  county,  and  in  a  good  many  ways 
a  rather  good  citizen?  But  for  some  unac 
countable  reason  he  seems  to  bear  the  Major  a 
grudge,  and  do  what  the  Major  can,  he  cannot 
soften  John's  heart  towards  him.  Some  day 
there  will  be  a  reckoning,  and  John  may  repent 
his  course  towards  the  Major." 

The  Squire  arose,  and  so  did  the  listener. 
The  old  man,  as  if  he  felt  he  had  told  more  than 
he  should,  said  to  Gould,  "I  hope  you  will 
consider  this  confidential,  sir.  My  respect  and 
sympathy  for  the  Major,  and  his  family,  has 
led  me  to  say  too  much,  I  fear— to— to— a- 
excuse  me,  a  stranger." 

Gould  extended  his  hand,  and  said,  "To 
a  stranger,  indeed;  but  I  ask  you  to  trust  him, 
even  as  you  did  yesterday." 


CHAPTER   IV 

A^TER  dinner  that  day  Gould  said 
to  his  host,  "The  doctor  thinks  that 
it  would  do  me  good  to  take  a 
walk.  Where  would  you  recommend  that  I 
go?" 

'  You  keep  the  road  that  follows  the  stream 
until  you  come  to  the  falls ;  there  you  will  find 
a  log  bridge.  Cross  this  bridge  and  take  the 
right  hand  road  that  leads  into  the  woods  up 
the  hill.  If  you  follow  this  road  about  a  mile 
you  will  come  to  our  beautiful  lake.  Our  land 
extends  to  the  south  shore.  We  think  it  is 
very  beautiful." 

"  Where  does  the  other  road  lead? " 

"Down  to  our  intervale  farm,  where  I  am 
trying  to  make  a  little  hay." 

"Are  you  working  alone?" 

"  Yes,  but  I  am  accustomed  to  it.  If  I  were 
strong  I  could  get  along  very  well.  When 
you  return  I  will  have  your  trunk  here.  I  hope 

66 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON         67 

you  will  excuse  me  for  not  going  with  you. 
You  know  we  must  'make  hay  while  the  sun 
shines.'  Did  you  hear  from  Constable  Jones?" 

'  Yes.  Mr.  Gray  came  down  to  inform  me 
that  the  constable  was  satisfied  that  I  am  not 
the  man  they  want.  It's  quite  an  odd  experi 
ence  in  my  life  to  be  held  up  for  assault  and 
robbery.  You  say  that  the  left  hand  road 
leads  to  your  farm?" 

"Yes,  but  there  is  nothing  interesting 
there." 

The  dinner  was  very  acceptable  to  Gould. 
Madeline  presided  at  the  table  with  the  dignity 
and  grace  of  a  woman,  although  to  this  man  of 
the  world  she  was  but  a  child.  She  had  bowed 
when  he  entered,  but  did  not  speak  save  in 
reply  to  some  remark  of  her  father.  Gould 
thought  he  could  discover  that,  young  as  she 
was,  she  was  sharing  the  load  of  care  and  anxi 
ety  that  depressed  the  father.  What  could  he 
do?  Something  must  be  done  to  remove  the 
shadow  of  the  boding  cloud  that  hung  over  this 
worthy  family. 

As  they  rose  from  the  table  Gould  said, 


68          JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

"  I  will  see  you  a  little  later  in  the  day,  Mr. 
Crosby." 

'Yes,"  said  the  Major,  "I  shall  come  up 
from  the  intervale  early,  possibly  before  you 
get  back  from  your  walk.  You  will  find  the 
woods  road  and  the  lake  tempting.  When 
you  are  a  little  stronger,  I  will  furnish  you  with 
a  fishing  outfit,  and  you  can  amuse  yourself 
while  you  are  gaining  strength.  Below  the 
falls  there  is  good  fishing.  Do  you  ever  fish? " 
"  A  little,  but  I  am  not  an  expert." 
Gould  passed  out  of  the  door  and  down 
through  the  tall  pines  till  he  was  quite  out  of 
sight  of  the  house,  and  throwing  himself  under 
the  shadows  of  a  great  beech  began  to  think. 

The  words  of  the  Major  ran  through  his 
mind:  "When  you  are  stronger  I  will  furnish 
you  with  a  fishing  outfit,  and  you  can  amuse 
yourself  while  you  are  regaining  your  health." 
Was  he  dreaming?  Should  he  awake  to  find 
that  he  had  only  in  his  dreams  met  the  one 
unselfish  man ;  a  man  over  whom  there  hung  a 
cloud  black  with  adversity?  One  in  whose  face 
there  stared  stalking  poverty  and  the  wolf  of 


JAY   GOULD    HARMON         69 

want,  and  who  was  whelmed  about  with  nearly 
every  misfortune  that  a  man  could  be  subject 
to?  Yet  this  good  soul  could  feed  the  hungry, 
clothe  the  naked,  and  bind  up  the  wounds  of 
the  afflicted  as  did  the  Samaritan  of  old.  How 
mean  in  comparison  with  this  sweet  spirit 
seemed  all  the  men  and  women  he  had  known 
in  his  station  in  life !  In  these  woods  had  been 
bred  one  lofty  soul,  one  brave  spirit  with  some 
thing  of  an  angel's  love,  with  something  of  a 
god-like  charity.  Such  a  product  was  wealth 
enough  to  come  from  these  environing  woods 
to  grace  a  State.  Had  he  been  sent  by  some 
divine  agency  to  succor  this  brave  family?  The 
thought  took  possession  of  him.  It  seized  him 
like  a  phantasy.  He  must  do  something. 
What,  he  did  not  know,  but  "  something,  some 
thing,"  he  murmured  as  he  moved  through  the 
woods  towards  the  stream. 

As  he  walked,  he  thought  of  his  strange 
friend,  Lionel  Sharpe,  the  cold,  stern  man  who 
had  lost  all  faith  in  woman,  and  who  believed 
that  an  unselfish  and  sincere  man  might  exist, 
but  he  had  never  met  him.  Many  times  a  mil- 


70         JAY   GOULD    HARMON 

lionaire,  Sharpe  stood  at  the  head  of  one  of  the 
great  financial  houses  in  New  York.  Out 
wardly  cold  and  stern,  he  repulsed  most  men, 
but  Gould  knew  that  within  there  was  a  heart 
that  was  kind  and  pitying,  that  took  note  of 
the  sufferings  of  humanity,  and  that  while 
his  name  did  not  appear  upon  any  list  of  pub 
lished  charities,  yet  relief  had  come  to  many  a 
sufferer  through  sources  unknown,  unsus 
pected.  Between  him  and  Gould  a  strange 
friendship  existed.  The  occult  grace  and 
goodness  of  Sharpe,  Gould  had  discovered 
long  ago.  The  real  nobleness  of  the  man  hid 
den  under  the  frigid  exterior  he  had  found, 
and  Sharpe  in  turn  had  given  his  young  friend 
his  rare  confidence.  What  a  discovery  would 
be  the  character  of  Major  Daniel  Crosby  to 
Lionel  Sharpe!  He  would  be  a  rara  avis  of 
the  human  family.  That  night  a  letter  was 
sent  from  Falling  Water  to  Lionel  Sharpe— 
and  it  contained  a  revelation. 

The  Major  was  tired.  He  had  worked  hard 
that  day,  and  had  nearly  exhausted  his 
strength.  He  saw  that  a  shower  was  coming 


71 

up  and  that  his  well-made  hay  would  be  wet 
before  he  could  possibly  house  it.  For  the 
first  time  in  his  life  he  felt  his  courage  failing. 
He  could  see  no  escape  from  the  dreadful  net 
of  circumstances  that  entangled  him.  How 
would  it  end?  Must  his  dear  home  go?  Must 
he  be  driven  out,  his  family  scattered,  and  he 
become  a  wanderer  on  the  face  of  the  earth? 
From  his  brother  he  could  hope  for  nothing, 
and  if  not  from  a  brother,  from  whom? 

He  sank  upon  the  soft  hay  and  gave  up  in 
despair. 

"Mr.  Crosby,  what  is  the  matter?  Have 
you  heard  bad  news? "  said  a  voice  that  he  rec 
ognized  as  Gould's. 

"  Oh  no,  oh  no!  You  rather  took  me  by  sur 
prise.  You  see  I  am  getting  kind  of  old,  and 
maybe  a  little  childish;  and  we  all  have  our 
troubles." 

"  Yes,  yes,  Mr.  Crosby,  but  I  fear  that  you 
have  more  than  your  share.  I  have  come  to 
help  you.  You  get  on  the  hay  rack  and  see  me 
play  with  this  hay.  I'll  bury  you  up  if  you  are 
not  careful." 


72         JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

"You  must  not!  You  must  not!  You  are 
not  strong." 

"  Strength  is  the  one  thing  I  boast  of. 
Don't  I  look  strong?" 

The  Major  gazed  upon  Gould's  splendid 
physique,  as  he  said,  "You  look  capable  of 
doing  anything  that  requires  right  and  might." 

"  Well,  let  me  prove  it." 

He  helped  the  Major  clamber  over  the  low 
rail  of  the  rack,  and  then  he  fell  to  pitching  the 
hay,  which  came  so  fast  that  the  Major  had  to 
call  to  him  to  desist.  'You'll  smother  me. 
Why,  you're  a  giant,"  and  for  the  first  time 
Gould  heard  a  note  of  cheerfulness  in  his 
voice.  Every  spear  of  hay  went  in  dry.  Gould 
sent  his  host  to  the  house  while  he  took 
care  of  the  horse  and  "  chores  "  about  the  barn. 
At  the  supper  table  he  met  Mrs.  Crosby.  He 
saw  at  once  the  source  of  that  peculiar  grace 
which  he  had  noted  in  Madeline,  and  heard 
again  the  notes  of  that  voice  which  had  so 
strangely  affected  him,  and  which  he  had  tried 
to  forget. 

Mrs.  Crosby  looked  very  tired.  She  thanked 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON         73 

our  hero  for  his  services  to  her  husband  that 
day,  but  urged  him  to  be  careful  of  himself 
until  he  was  secured  in  his  strength.  Asking 
to  be  excused  she  retired  to  her  room  in  another 
wing  of  the  house  to  study,  as  she  said. 

"Did  you  go  to  the  lake?"  inquired  the 
Major  of  Gould. 

"Only  to  the  falls,  sir.  I  noticed  that  a 
shower  was  coming  up,  and  I  thought  I  would 
help  you  save  your  hay." 

"  And  you  did  save  it.  I  never  could  have 
done  it  alone." 

"Mr.  Crosby,"  said  Gould,  in  a  tone  that 
had  something  of  determination  in  it,  "  I  shall 
remain  and  help  you.  get  your  hay.  Don't  pro 
test.  I  owe  you  more  than  you  dream  of. 
Pardon  me,  but  I  must  insist  on  this  one  thing, 
and  you  must  allow  me  to  do  what  I  feel  is  the 
right  thing." 

This  was  Thursday,  and  on  the  following 
Saturday  all  of  the  hay  was  safely  stored  in  the 
log  barn,  and  the  Major's  unusual  cheerfulness 
was  noted  by  all. 

Major  Crosby  and  his  new  friend  worked 


74         JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

together  for  three  days,  talking  on  many  sub 
jects,  each  finding  in  the  other  surprising  wells 
of  thought  and  charm  of  character;  but  not 
once  did  the  Major  ask  from  whence  he  came, 
who  he  really  was,  or  for  what  purpose  he  was 
among  them,  and  Gould  vouchsafed  no  word 
of  information  regarding  his  life  or  history. 

A  strange  content  had  fallen  upon  him. 
What  did  it  mean?  He  had  scarcely  spoken  to 
anyone,  save  the  Major,  since  the  day  the 
Squire  had  told  him  that  pitiful  story.  His 
quick  eye  had  taken  in  the  beauty  of  the  sur 
roundings.  Peace  seemed  to  nestle  at  Sunny 
Point,  and  the  rough  home  to  welcome  him.  In 
his  room  he  had  discovered  a  violin.  He  had 
opened  the  case,  expecting  to  find  only  the 
most  ordinary  instrument,  but  to  his  surprise 
his  artist  eye  detected  those  marks  which  so 
clearly  indicate  an  instrument  of  the  highest 
quality.  It  was  a  Guillaume. 

Gould  was  an  artist.  While  yet  a  child 
a  violin  had  been  placed  in  his  hands.  That 
love  of  music  which  was  native  in  his  blood  had 
been  cultivated  by  the  best  teachers,  and  he 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON         75 

reveled  in  the  thought  that  some  day,  possibly 
to-morrow,  which  was  Sunday,  he  would  play 
to  his  heart's  content.  He  knew  that  it  was 
the  intention  of  the  family  to  attend  church 
in  Greensburg,  four  miles  below,  to  hear  the 
son  of  their  neighbor,  Elijah  Fessenden,  preach 
his  initial  sermon.  This  should  be  his  oppor 
tunity  to  pour  out  his  soul  through  that  instru 
ment,  whose  unaccountable  presence  passes  all 
understanding. 

The  Sunday  came.  At  the  breakfast  the 
family  were  all  present  save  Lois,  who  had 
returned  to  her  uncle's  from  a  sense  of  duty 
that  she  considered  was  due  her  Aunt  Martha, 
but  possibly  more  impelled  by  her  love  for  the 
beautiful  crippled  boy,  who  clung  to  her  as 
to  an  older  sister.  She  not  only  waited  upon 
him  with  all  the  tenderness  of  her  nature,  but 
she  was  his  teacher.  She  loved  to  watch  the 
gradual  unfolding  of  the  child  mind  under  her 
tuition. 

There  was  one  thing  in  the  world  that  John 
Crosby  loved.  Little  Joey  was  his  idol.  For 
him  the  stern  voice  would  soften;  for 


76         JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

him  the  touch  of  the  strong  hands  was 
gentle;  for  him  the  severe  expression  of 
his  face  would  melt  into  kindness,  and 
the  hard  blue  eyes  glow  with  the  passion 
of  love.  The  child  held  the  cords  of  all  that 
was  best  in  the  soul  of  John  Crosby.  To  do 
him  justice,  he  was  not  unkind  in  his  immediate 
family.  He  had  married  a  woman  twenty 
years  his  junior,  and  this  little  son  was  the 
result  of  that  wedlock.  The  child  had  been  a 
cripple  from  birth,  but  there  looked  out  from 
his  beautiful  eyes  a  fair  spirit  that  had  seemed 
to  come  into  this  world  to  win  from  the  soul 
of  his  stern  father  a  love  which  to  none  other 
was  manifest. 

At  nine  o'clock  on  Sunday  morning  the 
Major,  his  wife,  and  Madeline,  started  to  at 
tend  church  in  Greensburg.  Gould  had  been 
invited  to  go  with  them  but  had  declined. 

There  was  quite  a  delegation  from  Falling 
Water  that  went  to  hear  the  son  of  their  neigh 
bor,  Lige  Fessenden,  preach.  They  had  been 
pleased  with  his  trial  sermon,  and  had  installed 
him  as  pastor  of  the  First  Congregational 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON         77 

Church,  and  he  was  to  preach  his  first  sermon 
as  a  settled  pastor  before  his  people.     Falling 
Water  was  profoundly  interested  in  him,  be 
side  being  very  proud  of  the  fact  that  their  lit 
tle  town  had  furnished  Greensburg  a  minister. 
Gould's    opportunity    had    come.      When 
he  had  seen  the   carriages   roll  through  the 
bridge  he  went  back,  took  out  the  violin,  and 
proceeded  to  put  it  in  order.     He  found  the 
bridge  down,  and  two  of  the  strings  broken. 
He  had  provided  himself  from  the  Squire's 
stock  with  a  full  set,  such  as  they  were.     He 
spent  much  time  in  getting  the  instrument 
in  order.     He  then  went  into  the  living-room, 
which  also  served  for  the  dining-room,  and 
began  to  run  over  the  instrument,  extemporiz 
ing  in  that  free  and  brilliant  manner  of  which 
only  an  artist  is  capable.     He  then  stopped 
and  looked  about  the  room.  How  ample  it  was. 
The  huge  brick  fireplace  was  piled  full  of  green 
yellow  birch,  laid  up  in  artistic  order,  with  the 
kindling  wood  beneath,  ready  to  be  fired  when 
ever  the  need  came. 

Gould  had  been  surprised  to  see  so  many 


78         JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

good  books  arranged  in  order  on  the  home 
made  shelves,  but  he  remembered  their  owner 
had  been  a  teacher  and  that  this  would  account 
for  their  presence.  There  were  no  pictures  on 
the  walls,  but  the  four  windows,  low  and  wide, 
draped  in  dainty  dimity,  framed  in  pictures 
beautiful  and  always  changing — pictures  be 
yond  the  power  of  any  artist  to  produce. 

On  the  northeast  one  saw  the  wooded  slopes 
of  the  mountain  side,  with  its  soft  surging 
blanket  of  varying  green.  As  one  moved 
about  the  room  the  picture  changed  in  scope 
and  depth,  with  its  perspective.  On  the  west, 
etched  in  its  dainty  frame,  was  a  little  clearing 
— the  garden  plot  of  the  home — in  the  very 
center  of  which,  dominating  everything,  a 
great  boulder  stood,  that  ages  ago  had  dropped 
from  the  frozen  floor  of  a  wandering  iceberg. 
The  warm  sun  shone  down  on  the  young  corn, 
peas  and  beans,  the  tender  squash  plant,  and 
growing  tubers,  all  showing  that  they  had  been 
cared  for  by  some  toiler  who  loved  them  as 
much  for  their  beauty  as  for  their  utility.  On 
the  southwest  was  a  window  picture  of  rugged 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON         79 

grandeur,  revealing  the  precipitous  side  of  a 
rocked-ribbed  mountain,  that  frowned  upon 
the  valley  beneath  in  stern  benignity.  Its 
strength  was  not  hostile,  but  suggestive  of 
power.  The  scattering  spruce  and  hemlock 
clinging  here  and  there  to  its  shaggy  brow 
added  a  bristling  severity  to  its  stony  face.  To 
those  who  loved  it,  it  conveyed  no  menace,  but 
stood  a  guardian  of  the  fair  valley  below.  The 
picture  looking  towards  the  river  on  the  south 
east  was  entrancing.  A  level  green  extended 
from  the  house  to  the  shores  of  the  singing 
river  that  eddied  directly  in  front  of  the  home, 
where  the  waters  seemed  to  pause  a  moment  as 
if  in  gentle  obeisance,  then  glided  out,  and  on 
and  on  to  the  sea. 

Beyond  the  stream,  appearing  here  and  there 
above  the  clustering  groves,  could  be  seen  the 
roofs  of  the  homes  of  neighbors  living  in  the 
suburbs  of  Greensburg.  The  ever-changing 
seasons  qualified  these  living  pictures,  and  ban 
ished  from  that  home  all  need  of  the  graphic 
art,  for  a  painter  greater  than  a  Turner  was 
constantly  touching  with  nature's  masterful 


80         JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

brush  the  uncopied  pictures  in  this  humble 
home. 

The  nature  of  Gould  was  artistic.  The 
compelling  beauty  that  lay  upon  every  hand 
was  refashioning  the  man  of  society.  Nature 
had  found  response  in  this  soul.  She  knew 
and  claimed  her  own.  But  there  first  must  be 
a  new  birth,  and  that  parturition  was  at  hand. 

How  long  Gould  played  he  never  knew. 
He  sketched  many  airs  from  the  grand  operas, 
then  he  would  extemporize,  playing  as  if  in 
a  frenzy.  He  could  not  stop.  The  violin 
seemed  bewitched.  On  and  on  he  played,  and 
at  last,  as  if  in  answer  to  his  thoughts,  the  violin 
floated  into  that  pathetic  and  matchless  air, 
Gottschalk's  "  Last  Hope."  He  forgot  every 
thing.  All  the  trouble  and  sadness  of  his  young 
life  he  poured  into  that  marvelous  composi 
tion.  His  soul  was  crying  out  through  the 
violin.  Tears  came  to  his  eyes,  with  the  last 
sweet  strains.  He  sank  upon  the  great  lounge 
with  the  violin  still  clutched  in  his  hands,  and 
the  long  pent-up  emotion  found  relief  in  tears. 

"What  is  it,  Mr.   Gould?     What  is  it?" 


cried  a  voice  at  the  door,  which  he  knew  was 
Crosby's. 

He  started  up  and  saw  Madeline  and  her 
father  and  mother  standing  at  the  wide  door, 
and  a  little  back  of  them,  tall  and  beautiful  but 
calm  and  unmoved,  the  girl  who  had  bowed  over 
him  in  protecting  pity  at  John  Crosby's  well. 

Little  'Madeline's  hands  were  held  up  almost 
to  her  face,  and  she  seemed  to  be  wringing 
them,  while  from  the  eyes  of  the  father  tears 
were  slowly  falling,  as  he  said,  "  Oh,  Mr. 
Gould,  who  are  you?  What  is  this  mystery? 
You  have  come  to  us  as  Carlyle  said  of  Emer 
son,  like  an  angel." 

Mrs.  Crosby  advanced  and  said,  half  apolo 
getically,  "  Did  you  know  we  were  sitting  upon 
the  porch  and  listening  to  you?" 

Gould  had  partly  recovered  himself,  and 
managed  to  say,  "  I  certainly  did  not  hear  you 
come.  I  must  have  played  a  long  time.  May 
I  ask  who  owns  this  violin? " 

"It's  Lois's,"  replied  Madeline.  "It  was 
Grandfather  de  Neumoir's.  He  left  it  when 
he  went  away  to  Paris,  and  he  never  returned." 


82          JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

Gould  glanced  at  Lois  and  said  quietly, 
"Do  you  play?" 

"  Very  little,  sir,"  replied  the  girl.  "  I  never 
had  a  teacher,  and  what  little  I  know  I  learned 
from  books." 

Gould  turned  to  the  father  and  in  an  im 
pressive  manner  said,  "  This  is  a  very  old  and 
valuable  instrument.  Have  you  any  idea  of 
its  worth?" 

"Why,"  volunteered  Madeline,  "Uncle 
John  said  it  was  worth  about  ten  dollars,  and 
said  he  would  allow  us  twenty-five  dollars 
towards  the  interest  account  for  it,  if  Lois 
would  teach  Joey  what  she  knew,  when  he  was 
older." 

Gould  turned  sharply,  and  addressing 
Lois  said,  "Does  your  uncle  know  anything 
about  the  value  of  violins? " 

"  I  think  not,"  replied  the  girl.  "  But  he  has 
been  trying  to  buy  it  for  some  time.  It  has 
been  in  my  mother's  family  so  long  we  do  not 
wish  to  part  with  it,  unless — unless  we  are 
obliged  to." 

"Miss  Lois,  don't  sell  it.     But  if  the  time 


83 

ever  comes  when  you  feel  you  must  part  with  it, 
I  have  a  friend  who  will  gladly  give  you  a 
thousand  dollars  for  it ;  for,  in  my  opinion,  it  is 
a  genuine  Guillaume." 

"A  thousand  dollars!  A  thousand  dollars!" 
cried  Lois  and  Madeline  in  chorus.  "  You  can 
not  mean  it!  "  said  Lois.  "  Why,  that  would 
pay  off  the  mortgage  on  our  home  and  send 
poor  father  South.  Do  you  mean  it,  Mr. 
Gould?  Do  you  mean  it?" 

"I  do,"  replied  Gould,  in  a  tone  that  left 
no  doubt  of  his  sincerity.  Lois  advanced  to 
her  father  and  mother,  who  were  standing  near 
the  fireplace,  and  said,  "  Oh !  Now  dear  father 
and  mother,  I  can  do  something  for  you.  I 
will  give  it  up;  I  will  give  up  everything,  all 
my  hopes  of  some  day  being  a  violinist,  if  I  can 
but  save  this  dear  home  for  you.  I  have  an 
education.  I  can  teach.  I  can  do  something. 
But  let  us  first  save  the  home.  That  will  make 
me  happy." 

,Then,  turning  to  Gould,  she  said,  "Are 
you  quite  sure?  You  could  not  be  so  cruel  as 
to  deceive  us." 


84         JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

"Lois,"  said  her  father  mildly,  "can't  you 
see  that  Mr.  Gould  is  not  deceiving  us?  " 

The  girl  looked  from  one  to  the  other  for  a 
moment,  and  then  sank  into  her  chair,  sobhing 
as  if  her  heart  would  break,  and  between  her 
sobs  said,  "  Oh!  I  am  so  happy,  so  happy!" 

And  Jay  Gould  had  seen  something  in 
the  soul  and  character  of  a  woman  that  day 
that  was  to  him  a  revelation. 


CHAPTER  V 

A  the  breakfast  table  next  morning 
Gould  surprised  the  Major  by  ask 
ing  him  if  he  had  ever  applied  for  a 
pension. 

"Oh,  yes.  I  made  an  application  about 
three  years  ago  through  a  pension  agent  in 

B ,  but  I  have  never  received  a  dollar  from 

the  government.  Every  little  while  my  lawyer 
sends  me  a  request  for  a  little  more  money, 
generally  adding :  '  I  expect  to  hear  any  day 
that  a  private  bill  has  been  passed  granting 
you  a  pension.' ' 

"  Did  you  have  any  trouble  in  furnishing  the 
evidence  that  was  required?" 

"No.  My  regiment  was  raised  in  this 
county,  my  colonel  is  still  living,  and  many  of 
my  comrades  are  within  fifty  miles  of  this 
place." 

"To  what  does  your  solicitor  charge  the 

delay?" 

85 


86          JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

"He  says  my  case  comes  under  the  private 
pension  act,  and  that  it  requires  considerable 
time  as  well  as  money  to  get  certain  influential 
congressmen  to  take  up  the  matter  at  private 
sessions.  I  sometimes  think,  with  my  brother 
John,  that  I  was  born  under  an  unlucky  star, 
although  I  know  this  is  a  childish  conclusion." 

"Perhaps  you  have  read  what  one  of  the 
poets  has  said  on  this  subject: '  The  world  in  its 
childhood  was  not  wise,  fearing  the  destinies  of 
the  stars.' ' 

"Tupper,  I  think." 

"  Quite  right." 

:'  With  your  permission,  I  would  like  to  ask 
you  a  few  more  questions  relating  to  your  pen 
sion." 

"I  shall  be  pleased  to  answer." 

"  I  believe  you  wrere  wounded? " 

"I  was  shot  through  the  left  lung  at  Cold 
Harbor." 

"  Were  you  in  a  government  hospital? ' 

"  I  was,  for  nearly  two  months." 

"Were  you  able  to  do  any  further  service 
after  that?" 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON         87 

"  No.  I  was  utterly  unable  to  do  anything 
for  nearly  seven  months.  My  recovery  was 
considered  very  doubtful." 

'  You  have  never  fully  recovered  from  your 
injury,  I  believe?" 

"  No,  I  never  shall,"  said  the  Major  sadly. 

"  Did  you  provide  your  pension  agent  with 
these  facts?" 

"  Certainly.  I  had  no  trouble  whatever  in 
proving  them.  Why  do  you  ask?" 

"  Pardon  me,  but  one  or  two  more  questions, 
and  then  I  will  tell  you.  Did  you  give  your 
pension  agent  power  of  attorney  to  receive  and 
receipt  for  your  pension  when  it  came?" 

'  Yes,  he  said  he  would  cash  it  and  send  me 
the  money.  You  don't  think  there  is  anything 
wrong  about  it,  do  you? " 

"  Major  Crosby,  this  is  what  I  think:  Your 
agent  is  a  scoundrel.  No  honest  solicitor  would 
have  asked  for  a  power  of  attorney  from  a 
client  who  lived  as  near  to  him  as  you.  Your 
case  is  very  simple.  Nothing  could  be  better 
established  than  your  service  and  your  disabili 
ties.  Kindly  give  me  your  solicitor's  name, 


88         JAY   GOULD    HARMON 

your  full  name,  the  dates  of  your  enlistment 
and  discharge,  when  and  where  you  were 
wounded,  the  name  of  your  colonel  and  two  of 
the  comrades.  Do  so  at  once  and  I  will  look 
into  the  matter." 

The  Major  had  been  looking  keenly  at  the 
young  man.  How  capable  he  seemed.  Was 
there  anything  he  could  not  do?  What  was 
the  secret,  the  mystery  hanging  over  him? 
Would  they  ever  know? 

Crosby  went  into  his  wife's  room,  and  in  a 
few  moments  returned,  handing  Gould  a 
paper  on  which  he  had  answered  all  the  ques 
tions,  and  a  parchment  roll  that  proved  to  be 
his  discharge  from  the  army. 

"Will  that  suffice?" 

'  That  would  suffice  to  get  a  pension  for 
any  man  in  the  United  States  without  delay." 

'You  almost  cause  me  to  hope  that  I  will 
get  my  pension." 

"  I  think  you  will.  May  I  ask  if  there  is  a 
telephone  line  to  B—  —  ?  " 

"  Yes,  at  Greensburg." 

"  That  will  do.     How  can  I  reach  there  un- 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON         89 

observed?  There  are  reasons  that  you  can 
understand,"  he  continued,  "why  I  would 
rather  not  have  my  presence  known  in  that 
town  just  at  present." 

"I  understand,"  replied  the  Major.  "Did 
you  ever  handle  a  canoe? " 

"I  once  belonged  to  a  canoe  club  in  New 
York,  and  I  became  moderately  skillful  as  a 
canoeist." 

The  Major  looked  astonished  as  he  said, 
"  Have  you  no  limitations? " 

"  I  only  wish  that  I  could  do  one  thing  well," 
was  the  feeling  reply.  "  I  have  played  all  my 
life,  save  when  at  college,  and  I  played  there 
too  much." 

"  Come  with  me." 

He  followed  the  Major  to  the  barn,  the 
"  hovel,"  as  they  say  in  the  woods. 

"  Albert's  canoe  is  in  that  last  stall.  We  will 
put  it  into  the  water,  and  you  can  paddle  down 
to  the  main  river  and  from  there  to  Greens- 
burg.  Stop  at  the  old  steamboat  landing,  and 
tell  Mr.  Snow  that  you  want  to  leave  it  there 
while  you  go  up  town.  At  Weatherby's  hard- 


90         JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

ware  store  you  will  find  the  long  distance 
'phone.  My  obligations  to  you  are  growing 
to  serious  proportions." 

"  We  will  not  talk  of  that.  The  obligation 
is  mine,  not  yours." 

They  put  the  canoe  in  the  water.  It  took  the 
Major  but  a  moment  to  discover  that  Gould 
was  no  tyro.  Just  before  his  departure, 
Major  Crosby  said,  "Mr.  Gould,  we  are 
going  to  have  a  little  company  to-night.  The 
minister  at  Greensburg,  Mr.  Fessenden,  his 
father  and  mother,  Squire  Gray,  and  Mrs.  Por 
ter,  his  daughter,  and  Helen  Porter,  the 
Squire's  granddaughter,  and  a  few  others  are 
coming  down  to  Sunny  Point.  We  are  going 
to  have  a  little  entertainment.  My  wife  plays 
the  piano  and  Madeline  sings,  and  so  does  the 
minister.  Would  it  be  asking  too  much  of  you 
to  play  for  us?" 

"  I  will  play,"  was  the  reply,  as  the  canoe 
shot  out  from  the  shore,  leaving  the  Major 
almost  happy. 

At  seven  o'clock  Gould  had  not  returned, 
but  Madeline  had  left  the  table  laid,  and  was 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON         91 

trying  to  keep  his  supper  warm.  At  last  he 
came  in,  looking  quite  cheerful.  As  he  passed 
through  the  room,  he  stopped  to  remark  to  the 
Major,  who  could  hardly  retain  his  composure, 
"Major  Crosby,  I  wish  to  congratulate  you. 
Your  pension,  dating  from  the  time  of  your  ap 
plication,  three  years  ago,  together  with  all  the 
money  that  you  have  sent,  with  an  extra  two 
hundred  dollars  as  the  price  of  your  silence,  or 
agreement  that  you  will  not  prosecute,  will 
arrive  on  the  train  to-morrow  morning.  I  had 
the  man  at  a  peculiar  advantage,  and  will 
explain  it  later." 

For  the  first  time  Gould,  who  was  being 
watched  by  both  Mrs.  Crosby  and  Madeline, 
was  seen  to  smile  broadly,  caused  by  the  expres 
sion  of  open-mouthed  astonishment  on  the  face 
of  the  host.  When  they  had  recovered  some 
what  from  their  joyous  surprise  the  Major  was 
heard  to  say,  "  I  thank  God  with  all  my  heart 
that  he  has  sent  you  to  us,  Mr.  Gould." 

The  lips  of  the  mother  were  seen  to  move  as 
she  offered  in  silence  her  thanks  to  God.  But 
Madeline  could  not  restrain  herself.  Moving 


92 

quickly  to  the  side  of  Gould,  she  placed  one 
of  her  hands  upon  his  arm,  and,  looking  at  him 
with  all  her  soul  in  her  eyes,  said  in  perfect  sin 
cerity,  "  You  must  be  that  wonderful  Sherlock 
Holmes  that  we  have  read  about.  Aren't  you? " 

For  a  moment  Gould  looked  into  her  wist 
ful  eyes,  then  sank  into  a  chair  and  gave  him 
self  up  for  the  first  time  in  many  a  week  to 
hearty,  genuine,  soul  relieving  laughter.  As  he 
rose  to  pass  into  his  room,  he  said  to  his  host,  "  I 
have  heard  a  good  many  bon  mots,  but  that 
remark  of  your  daughter's  excels  them  all." 

A  young  man  by  the  name  of  Link  Lincoln 
—the  Link  was  short  for  Lincoln,  as  he  had 
been  named  by  his  eccentric  father  Lincoln 
Lincoln — came  with  the  Squire  and  his  family. 
He  was  a  traveling  salesman,  witty,  jolly,  and 
talkative.  He  could  sing,  recite,  and  play  the 
zither,  without  any  great  degree  of  skill  but 
well  enough  to  entertain  his  friends.  He  had 
a  fund  of  stories,  and  seemed  to  be  perfectly 
at  home  at  the  Major's  and  with  all  the  guests. 

It  was  some  time  after  the  guests  had  assem 
bled  before  Gould  made  his  appearance.  He 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON         93 

was  introduced  by  the  Major.  The  entertain 
ment  began  with  a  well-played  piano  solo  by 
Madeline.  Then  Madeline  and  Mr.  Lincoln 
sang  a  duet  very  acceptably,  as  Gould 
thought.  Jake  Cornish  and  his  sister  sang  a 
duet,  "  Where  is  my  wandering  boy  to-night? " 
A  solo  by  Helen  Porter  showed  but  little  train 
ing.  The  Major  then  asked  Gould  if  he 
would  play.  Gould  had  seen  an  arrange 
ment  of  the  opera  of  "  Martha  "  on  the  piano. 
Going  to  Mrs.  Crosby  he  asked,  "  Do  you  play 
this  arrangement? " 

"  I  sometimes  accompany  Lois." 

"Shall  we  try  it?" 

The  playing  of  the  opening  chords  of  the 
opera  was  enough  to  convince  him  that  this 
woman  of  the  woods  was  no  ordinary  musician. 
He  felt  his  blood  tingle.  At  the  close  Mrs. 
Crosby  arose  and  said,  "Mr.  Gould,  do  play 
alone.  I  must  hear  you  alone.  We  must  all 
hear  you  alone." 

Gould  swung  around  from  the  piano, 
raised  the  violin,  and  with  his  eyes  drooping, 
bee-an  the  weird  and  wonderful  "  Legendre." 


94          JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

Once  or  twice  Lige  was  heard  to  groan,  his  face 
working  with  extraordinary  emotion.  Tears 
coursed  down  his  cheeks  under  the  influence 
of  that  wonderful  playing.  Muting  the  instru 
ment  Gould  played  "  Sweet  spirit,  hear  my 
prayer."  Lige  got  up  and  went  out,  saying, 
"  He'll  break  my  old  heart  if  I  don't  get  away 
for  a  spell." 

While  Gould  played  his  gaze  was  fixed 
unconsciously  upon  the  dreamy  face  of  Joey. 
It  was  not  a  stare,  but  a  correspondence.  He 
was  playing  to  that  little  soul  and  it  responded. 

When  the  music  ceased  a  silence  fell  upon 
them.  Lois  sat  like  a  statue.  Mrs.  Crosby's 
face  was  all  aglow.  Lige  had  returned  to  his 
seat  near  the  window,  but  no  one  was  rude 
enough  to  break  in  upon  the  rapturous  silence. 

It  was  little  Joey  who  spoke  first.  He  got 
down  from  his  aunt's  lap  and  moving  painfully 
towards  Gould  raised  his  hand  and  with  the 
light  of  an  angel  on  his  face  said,  "  Joey  wants 
to  tiss  oo."  For  a  moment  Gould  hesi 
tated,  but  only  for  a  moment.  Laying  the  vio 
lin  aside  he  reached  down  and  gathered  the  boy 


•<  He  was  playing  to  that  little  soul  and  it  responded  " 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON         95 

in  his  arms.  Then  laying  his  hand  upon  the 
golden  head,  Gould  held  it  against  his  face 
tenderly. 

Soon  Joey  raised  his  head,  and  looking  into 
Gould's  eyes,  said  with  childish  directness 
and  simplicity,  "  Oo  make  Joey  happy.  I  love 
oo." 

Every  heart  in  the  room  was  touched.  There 
was  moisture  in  Gould's  eyes  when  he  placed 
the  child  in  Mrs.  Crosby's  arms  saying,  "  That 
boy  has  the  soul  and  face  of  a  Mendelssohn." 

After  placing  the  violin  in  its  box,  our  hero 
asked  to  be  excused.  Another  silence  followed 
his  retirement,  which  was  broken  by  Lincoln 
saying  to  the  blacksmith,  "What  makes  you 
look  so  sober,  Mr.  Fessenden?" 

"  I  am  never  merry  when  I  hear  sweet  music, 
as  Shakespeare  says." 

"Now,  Mr.  Lincoln,  won't  you  play  upon 
your  zither?"  said  the  Major,  assuming  a 
cheerful  air. 

"  Well,  not  much,"  replied  Lincoln  bluntly. 
"  Once  in  a  while  I  have  sense  enough  to  keep 
still,  and  this  is  one  of  the  times." 


96         JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

"Good    for    you,"    said    Lige    promptly. 
'  You've  got  more  sense  than  usual." 

"  Why,  father!  "  said  Mrs.  Fessenden  to  her 
husband  reprovingly. 

"  I  don't  mean  anything  by  that,"  said  Lige. 
"  Just  sort  of  complimentary,  you  know." 

:<  Well,  I  am  going  out  to  hang  my  zither 
where  the  Jewish  maidens  hung  their  harps— 
on  a  willow  tree.  I  am  going  to  hang  it  high 
and  let  it  stay  there,"  said  Lincoln. 

The  little  party  soon  broke  up.  As  they 
passed  out  Abram  Fessenden,  the  young  minis 
ter,  turned  to  Mrs.  Crosby  and  said,  "Mrs. 
Crosby,  I  did  not  expect  the  great  treat  which 
you  have  afforded  us.  It  has  lifted  up  all  our 
hearts.  May  I  ask  who  is  Mr.  Gould? " 

Mrs.  Crosby  replied,  "We  only  know  that 
he  is  a  gentleman." 

When  Lois  and  Madeline  had  retired  to  their 
room,  the  younger  sister  said,  "  Did  you  see  the 
tears  in  Mr.  Gould's  eyes  when  he  put  little 
Joey  down?" 

'  Yes,  dear,"  replied  Lois. 

"Wasn't  Mr.  Gould's  face  just  beautiful 


JAY    GOULD    HARMOX         97 

when  he  was  playing?  Do  you  know — do  you 
know—  '  said  the  ingenuous  girl,  "that  I 
wanted  to  kiss  him  too? " 

"Why,  Madeline,  what  would  mother  say 
if  she  should  hear  you?" 

"I  don't  care,  Lois,  that  is  the  way  I  felt; 
and  besides,  he  is  twice  my  age.  He  made 
everybody  look  common,  excepting  father  and 
the  Squire.  What  a  wonderful  thing  it  would 
be,"  she  said  meditatively,  "  for  a  girl — for  a 
girl  to  have  a  sweetheart  like  Mr.  Gould. 
But,"  she  added  reflectively,  "  if  he  should  die 
it  would  kill  her." 

Madeline  looked  into  her  sister's  beautiful 
face  and  saw  something  there  she  could  not 
interpret.  She  put  her  arms  around  her  neck. 
"  What  is  it,  dearest?  You  are  as  pale  as  death, 
and  your  eyes  look  strange.  Tell  your  little 
Madeline." 

Lois  took  the  sweet  girl  in  her  arms  and  said, 
"  Never  mind,  dear.  I  guess  I  am  only  a  little 
excited." 

"  Oh,  Lois,  it  isn't  that ;  it  isn't  that.  It  isn't 
like  you  to  get  excited.  What  is  it? " 


98          JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

"  I  will  tell  you.  I  was  thinking  of  that  violin, 
and  that  I  had  sold  it  for  only  a  thousand  dol 
lars.  It  is  worth  millions,  my  little  sister, 
millions." 

In  the  morning  Major  Crosby  was  surprised 
to  see  his  brother  John  drive  up  to  the  door  with 
a  jigger  on  which  was  his  mowing  machine. 

"Is  Lige  Fessenden  here?"  he  said. 

"I  have  not  seen  him,  John.  What's  the 
matter?  " 

"Matter  enough.  My  machine  is  broken. 
I've  got  four  men  in  the  hay  field  and  haven't 
hay  enough  down  to  keep  'em  at  work.  The 
blacksmith  at  Greensburg  is  sick,  Lige  Fessen- 
den's  gone  off  somewiiere  and  left  his  shop 
open  and  his  fire  burning.  If  you  had  had 
sense  enough  to  learn  a  trade  you  might  have 
been  worth  something  to  the  community,  and 
not  a  dependent  on  your  wife  and  children. 
Where's  your  tramp  ?  Has  he  gone  ?  I  heard 
he  was  a-fiddling  in  your  house  last  night." 

The  Major  had  grown  pale,  and  there  was  a 
dangerous  light  in  his  eye  that  boded  ill  for  his 
brother,  but  a  voice  was  heard  saying:  "The 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON         99 

tramp  is  still  here,  Mr.  Crosby,  and  possibly  he 
can  help  you." 

John  Crosby  looked  up  to  see  a  debonaire 
figure  approaching.  Could  he  believe  his  eyes? 
Was  this  the  man  he  had  hurled  from  his  door- 
yard?  Before  him  was  the  figure  and  face  of  a 
man  of  distinguished  bearing;  one  that  would 
command  the  respect  of  anyone  at  sight.  Nei 
ther  in  manner  nor  voice  was  there  a  trace  of 
resentment.  Neither  was  there  subserviency. 
John  Crosby  was  surprised,  but  remarked: 

"  Are  you  the  man  that — that—  "  he  hesi 
tated. 

"Yes,  I  am  the  man  that  you  took  for  a 
tramp  and  ran  out  of  your  yard.  When  I 
learned  what  you  had  suffered  at  their  hands  I 
was  not  surprised  that  you  were  so  greatly  dis 
turbed  at  my  presence." 

There  was  something  about  the  man  that 
checked  all  words  of  abuse  or  wrath.  His  calm 
indifference  to  all  that  Crosby  had  said  and 
done  was  a  new  experience  to  him.  Did  this 
man  know  that  he  was  the  honorable  John 
Crosby  of  Greensburg,  the  richest  man  in  the 


100       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

county?  Where  was  the  deference  due  to  so 
important  a  personage? 

Gould  had  walked  around  the  jigger  and 
discovered  that  the  driving  bar  had  been 
broken.  He  turned  to  the  Major,  and  speak 
ing  as  though  John  Crosby  was  not  within 
hearing,  quietly  remarked,  "  I  think  if  we  can 
get  into  the  blacksmith  shop  I  can  weld  the  bar. 
Blacksmithing  was  part  of  our  training  at  Ste 
phens  Institute." 

The  honorable  John  looked  relieved  and  sur 
prised,  but  seemed  at  a  loss  what  to  say.  Fi 
nally  he  said,  "  The  shop  is  open,  and  if  you 
can  fix  it;  Mr.— 

"  Tramp,"  said  our  hero  with  a  faint  smile. 

"Yes,  tramp,  and  I'll  have  you  understand 
I  haven't  changed  my  mind  on  that  score.  But 
I  am  willing  to  pay  anyone  for  doing  this  work, 
tramp  or  no  tramp." 

The  wrath  of  the  old  man  had  flamed  up 
again.  Of  late  he  had  seemed  to  be  in  a  con 
stant  state  of  eruption.  Gould  said  nothing, 
but  walked  quietly  behind  the  jigger  until  they 
reached  the  shop. 


101 

"Mr.  Crosby,  you  will  please  roll  the  ma 
chine  into  the  shop  while  I  prepare  the  fire. 
You  can  take  off  the  rod,"  Gould  was  in 
full  command  of  the  situation,  and  ordered 
Crosby  about  with  unconscious  authority  that 
astonished  the  Major  and  two  or  three  others 
who  had  been  attracted  to  the  shop  by  the 
appearance  of  the  man  that  the  whole  town 
was  talking  about.  The  Major  helped  his 
brother  roll  the  machine  in,  but  could  not  help 
smiling  to  himself  as  he  noted  that  John 
seemed  at  a  loss  what  to  say,  his  usual  arbitrary 
manner  being  dropped.  He  was  obeying,  not 
giving  orders. 

Gould  took  the  broken  pieces  of  steel,  and 
after  measuring  carefully  placed  them  in  the 
fire.  He  had  donned  a  blacksmith's  apron 
and  laid  aside  his  hat.  He  worked  swiftly 
and  deftly.  His  face  seemed  illumined  as  he 
struck  the  finishing  blows  upon  the  perfectly 
welded  steel.  Then,  with  the  tongs,  he  placed 
the  bar  upon  the  floor  between  the  two  marks 
he  had  made  to  ascertain  the  exact  length  of 
the  piece  of  iron. 


"I  think  that  will  do,  Mr.  Crosby.  You 
can  put  the  machine  together  now." 

Lige  Fessenden  had  returned  before  Gould 
had  given  the  finishing  touches  to  his  work. 
He  had  watched  with  amazement  the  skillful 
s wedging  of  the  bar  as  it  was  being  drawn  out 
to  its  proper  length. 

John  Crosby  did  not  notice  Lige  when  he 
came,  nor  had  he  spoken  to  anyone,  but  there 
was  a  thunder  cloud  on  his  face. 

Gould  had  thrown  off  his  apron,  and  put 
ting  on  his  coat  started  out  of  the  shop. 

"How  much  do  I  owe  for  your  trouble?" 
said  John  Crosby. 

'You  can  settle  with  your  brother.  I  am 
working  for  him  now."  And  he  went  towards 
the  bench  under  a  great  elm  where  Lige  had  a 
wash  bowl  and  towel  for  "  cleaning  up." 

The  two  brothers  had  watched  the  worker 
in  silence.  But  how  different  were  their  feel 
ings!  The  skill  and  certainty  of  action  were 
to  Daniel  Crosby  a  triumph,  a  joy;  to  John, 
a  rebuke,  a  mortification. 

Gould's  manner,  as  John  Crosby  thought, 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON       103 

of  leaving  the  shop  as  soon  as  work  requiring 
any  skill  had  been  finished,  maddened  the  al 
ready  irritated  man.  This  was  treatment  to 
which  the  honorable  John  had  not  been  accus 
tomed.  He  expected  men  to  defer  to,  not 
command,  him.  He  knew  that  his  brother  was 
secretly  enjoying  the  situation.  This  added 
to  his  vexation.  He  said  nothing  until  the 
machine  was  loaded,  and  he  had  gathered  up 
the  reins  to  drive  away.  Then  turning  to  his 
brother  with  his  face  set  hard,  and  speaking 
loud  enough  for  all  to  hear,  said: 

"Daniel,  you  have  defaulted  your  interest 
account  for  two  years.  You  haven't  paid  a 
cent  on  the  principal.  You  are  practically  a 
pauper.  I  am  tired  of  waiting  and  bothering 
with  you.  I  don't  want  to  turn  you  out  my 
self,  so  I  sold  the  mortgage  to  Sparks  of 

B ,  and  you  know  what  to  expect.  It's 

all  your  fault.  If  you  had  a  little  of  your 
father's  sense  and  less  of  your  mother's  senti 
ment  you  wouldn't  be  where  you  are.  You 
can't  blame  me." 

Gould  heard  everv  word.     The  Major  sunk 


104        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

down  upon  the  great  stone  wheel,  while  the 
blood  oozed  slowly  from  his  pale  lips.  The 
shock  had  brought  on  a  hemorrhage. 

The  face  of  Lige  was  a  study.  His  eyes 
fairly  blazed.  That  a  great  struggle  was 
going  on  within  him  was  plain  to  be  seen,  but 
when  Crosby  picked  up  the  lines  and  fired  the 
parting  shot  the  rage  of  Lige  could  no  longer 
be  controlled.  Seizing  the  horse  by  the  head, 
with  his  eyes  on  fire,  and  the  great  shaggy 
head  trembling  with  fury,  he  shouted: 

'  You  miserable  blank — blankety — blank 
brute!  You  ain't  fit  to  live.  You  blank 
scoundrel !  You  blankety — blank — yellow  dog ! 
There  is  no  more  mercy  in  you  than  there's 
milk  in  a  male  tiger!  Thar  ain't  a  man  in  the 
county,  you  blank — wolf,  that  hadn't  rather 
go  to  your  funeral  than  a  circus.  Now  get 
out  of  here,  you  pot-bellied  rhinoceros !  Don't 
you  ever  come  to  my  shop  again.  You  proud, 
vain,  heartless,  senseless,  old  bear! " 

John  Crosby  had  not  heard  this  last  tirade. 
He  had  been  awed  by  the  fury  of  his  old 
neighbor.  Lige  the  First  was  on  deck,  and  in 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON       105 

fighting  trim,  and  Lige  the  Second  was  down. 
Out  of  breath  Lige  had  just  strength  enough 
to  say,  "  Damn  his  harstlet.  I  came  nigh  pull 
ing  him  out  of  the  wagon,  and  making  a 
chowder  out  of  him." 

A  voice  at  his  side  said:  "Father,  father, 
have  you  forgotten  God?"  He  turned  to 
behold  the  pale,  pained  face  of  his  son  Abram, 
the  minister  who  had  prayed  with  him  the  night 
before. 

The  blow  had  come  at  last,  and  at  a  time 
when  Daniel  Crosby  was  comforting  himself 
with  the  thought  that  he  was  doing  his  brother 
a  service,  when  he  hoped  that  for  this  reason 
the  strained  relations  that  existed  between 
them  would  be  replaced  by  brotherly  regard. 
But  his  hopes  had  turned  to  ashes,  and  left  him 
standing  there  in  dumb  pain,  his  face  gray 
with  the  agony  of  hopelessness  and  despair. 
Was  his  brother  right?  Would  it  have  been 
better  to  have  been  a  blacksmith,  and  secure  a 
living,  than  a  scholar  swamped  in  poverty? 
As  this  thought  came  to  him  he  had  sunk  upon 
the  great  stone,  and  burying  his  face  in  his 


106        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

hands  gave  up  to  his  unutterable  woe.  He  was 
thinking  only  of  his  wife  and  children,  not  of 
the  remorseless  treatment  of  his  brother. 

He  felt  a  hand  upon  his  shoulder,  and  heard 
a  voice:  " Mr.  Crosby,  is  it  as  bad  as  this? " 

Without  looking  up  the  wretched  man  re 
plied,  "As  bad  as  this." 

In  the  heart  of  Gould  there  was  both 
pity  and  indignation,  but  stronger  than  both 
was  an  iron  determination  that  he  would  defeat 
the  heartless  purposes  of  John  Crosby.  Turn 
ing  to  his  friend  he  was  surprised  to  see  that 
the  Major  was  slowly  raising  blood. 

"Major,  what  does  this  blood  mean?" 

"It's  another  hemorrhage.  Take  me  home 
as  soon  as  possible." 

They  reached  the  porch  just  as  Mrs.  Crosby 
came  out  of  the  house.  One  look  and  she  knew 
what  had  happened. 

"Daniel,"  she  cried,  in  a  voice  of  extreme 
solicitation.  "Is  it  your  lungs  again?" 

'Yes,  dearest,"  said  the  Major  calmly. 
"  Send  Madeline  for  the  doctor." 

The  sick  man  had  been  laid  upon  the  great 


107 

couch  in  the  living  room.  His  wife  was  bend 
ing  over  him  when  a  step  was  heard  in  the 
kitchen.  In  another  moment  the  door  opened 
and  Albert  Crosby  entered.  His  first  sur 
prised  glance  fell  on  Gould.  Then  seeing 
his  father  he  rushed  to  his  side  and  fell  upon 
his  knees  and  said  in  tearful  tones :  "  What  is 
it,  father?  What  has  happened?  Have  you 
been  hurt?" 

The  father  made  no  reply,  but  turned  his 
head  away  as  he  tried  to  choke  back  the  tears. 
The  boy  raised  his  eyes  to  his  mother,  and  the 
mother  replied:  "It's  another  hemorrhage, 
Albert;"  and  there  was  a  flash  in  her  eyes  as 
she  continued,  "  and  if  he  dies  your  Uncle  John 
will  be  his  murderer." 

The  doctor  came  and  after  a  short  examina 
tion  decided  that  the  hemorrhage  was  but 
slight;  that  the  Major  would  soon  get  up,  if 
he  would  only  "  keep  down ;"  be  a  good  loafer 
for  a  month. 

Every  member  of  the  Crosby  family  looked 
relieved.  Gould  volunteered  to  say  to  the 
doctor  that  the  mental  wound  was  the  most 


108       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

serious.  The  mind  must  be  relieved,  and  at 
once. 

"Will  you  excuse  me  for  a  short  time,  my 
friends?  Your  son  is  here.  He  can  min 
ister  to  his  father  better  than  a  stranger 
could." 

"  I  cannot  stay  a  minute  after  father's  out 
of  danger,"  replied  Albert.  "  I  promised  to 
be  back  on  the  drive  to-morrow.  Saturday  is 
the  pay  day,  and  much  depends  on  that." 

"Albert  Crosby,"  said  Gould  determin 
edly,  "  I  will  take  your  place.  You  must  stay 
here  with  your  father.  You  give  me  an  order 
to  have  your  money  sent  here,  and  I  will  attend 
to  it.  I  can  start  to-night.  How  far  is  the 
drive  from  here?" 

"  Fifteen  miles  up  the  East  Branch." 

"Will  you  write  out  what  your  duties  are, 
and  when  I  return  from  the  little  business  I 
have  with  the  Squire,  I  will  look  them  over  on 
my  way  up  the  river.  My  turn  has  come  to  do 
something  for  you.  Everything  has  been 
done  for  me,  while  I  was  unknown  to  you  all, 
and  suffering." 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON       109 

Going  directly  to  the  post  office  he  found 
Squire  Gray  alone. 

"Is  there  any  mail  for  me,  Mr.  Gray?" 

'Yes,  and  also  a  big  express  package  for 
Major  Crosby." 

"It's  probably  his  pension  money,"  said 
Gould.  "There  should  be  upwards  of  a 
thousand  dollars." 

"I  heard  from  the  lawyer  in  B this 

morning,  Mr.  Gould.  He  says  that  all  the 
papers  will  be  on  the  train  to-night,  addressed 
to  me,  and  when  I  have  received  the  money  I 
am  to  turn  them  over." 

Gould  had  been  opening  his  mail  as  they 
talked. 

"I  have  here,  Mr.  Gray,  a  draft  for  one 
thousand  dollars  on  New  York.  I  will  sign 
it  over  to  you.  I  think  the  mortgage  and 
interest  is  less  than  nine  hundred  dollars.  You 
can  use  this  until  Mr.  Crosby  is  ready  to  pay 
over  to  you  from  his  pension  money  the  amount 
you  will  have  to  take  out  of  this.  Say  nothing 
to  the  family  until  after  my  departure.  Their 
son,  Albert,  has  returned.  He  felt  obliged  to 


110       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

go  back  as  soon  as  his  father  was  out  of  danger. 
I  shall  take  his  place.  He  thinks  the  drive 
will  pass  here  before  a  week,  when  I  will  see 
you  again.  I  think  you  understand,  Mr. 
Gray." 

And  before  the  good  Squire  could  reply 
Gould  moved  swiftly  away.  Going  to  his 
room  he  selected  a  few  articles  of  clothing,  and 
calling  Albert  told  him  briefly  the  arrange 
ment  the  Squire  had  made  with  the  lawyer, 
charging  him  to  say  nothing  until  he  had 
started,  when  Albert  gasped  out,  "But  where 
did  the  money  come  from?" 

'  The  pension  money  has  come."  Gould 
moved  towards  the  door,  and  as  he  passed  out 
said :  "  I  am  to  follow  the  river  road  to  S—  — , 
am  I  not?" 

"Yes,  but " 

"  Commend  me  to  your  father  and  mother. 
Good-day."  And  he  was  off. 

That  night  about  eight  o'clock  Squire  Gray 
came  to  the  house  at  Sunny  Point,  and  placed 
in  the  hands  of  Major  Crosby  papers  which 
made  Sunny  Point  his,  free  from  all  incum- 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON       111 

brances;  also  a  package,  of  money  amounting 
to  nearly  eleven  hundred  dollars. 

"  When  you  are  ready,  Major,"  he  said,  with 
a  joyous  look  in  his  eyes,  as  he  saw  the  great 
hope  illumine  the  face  of  his  friend,  "when 
you  get  through  handling  it  you  can  send 
me  eight  hundred  and  sixty-two  dollars  and 
twenty  cents,  to  settle  the  principal  and  interest 
of  the  mortgage." 

"But  here  the  papers  are  all  signed  and 
executed.  Who  advanced  the  money?" 

"  Why,  as  John  Crosby  says,  '  The  tramp.' ' 

"  I  shall  get  well  now,  Squire  Gray,"  said 
the  Major  with  the  ring  of  joy  in  his  voice. 

That  night  Hope  had  spread  her  white  wings 
over  Sunny  Point,  and  in  Madeline's  prayer 
God  heard  a  petition  for  her  father's  life  and 
well-being. 

After  the  other  men  had  departed  from  his 
shop  the  eyes  of  Lige  Fessenden  and  his  son 
met.  In  those  of  the  son  was  a  sad  and  gentle 
rebuke,  while  in  the  face  of  the  father  was  a 
wild  confusion,  followed  by  a  groan  of  morti- 


112        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

fication.  Then  the  face  hardened  and  another 
form  of  anger  appeared.  With  determination 
marked  on  every  feature  he  passed  into  the 
shop,  seized  the  black  green-hide,  which  was 
sometimes  used  on  refractory  horses,  came  out 
and  started  for  the  main  highway.  His  son 
sprang  in  front  of  him  crying,  "  Father, 
father!  Don't  look  that  way!  God  will  for 
give  you  if  you  will  only  ask  him." 

"  Stand  aside,  my  boy,"  said  the  father. 
"  God  may  forgive,  but  I  can't.  Lige  the 
First  must  be  punished,  but  his  shame  shall  not 
be  seen  of  men.  Don't  follow  me."  He 
strode  on,  leaving  his  son  and  neighbors  in 
dumb  and  pitying  helplessness. 

He  was  heard  to  growl  to  himself  as  he 
passed  along  the  level  way,  before  reaching  the 
foot  of  the  long  hill  that  began  at  the  edge 
of  the  woods. 

Abby  Smart  had  seen  him  pass.  "I  do 
declare,"  she  said  to  herself,  "  if  Lige  Fessen- 
den  isn't  going  by  a-talking  to  himself  like  a 
lunatic.  I  wonder  if  he  is  having  one  of  his 
spells.  Jest  see  him  whack  himself  with  that 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        113 

'ere  whip !  He  is  one  of  the  most  unaccount 
able  men  I've  ever  seen.  He  ought  to  be  put 
in  a  lyceum." 

Lige  the  Second  was  indeed  having  it  out 
with  Lige  the  First.  As  soon  as  he  entered 
the  woods  he  began: 

"  So  you  miserable,  good  for  nothing  rascal, 
you  took  advantage  of  me,  didn't  you?  You 
knew  I  had  lost  my  cow,  and  that  my  wife 
Sarah  was  sick,  and  that  I  wasn't  feeling  well 
myself,  and  you  just  laid  for  me." 

Thwack!  went  the  black  whip  around  his 
poor  old  legs. 

"That  makes  you  wince,  don't  it?  Well 
you  deserve  it,  you  betrayer  of  the  Lord !  You 
tempter !  Did  you  think  I'd  overlook  it,  and  be 
cause  old  John  Crosby  was  as  nasty  as  pisen 
you  thought  I  would  excuse  you,  hey?  Well,  I 
won't.  There  is  no  excuse  before  the  Lord  for 
such  vile  blasphemy.  Wake  up  there,  go 
along,  you  beast."  Thwack!  went  the  whip 
again  over  the  shoulders. 

"  Makes  you  puff,  don't  it,  old  Lige?  Good 
enough  for  you.  I'll  give  you  a  lesson  you 


114       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

won't  soon  forget.  You  loose-mouthed  old 
reprobate!  You  want  to  rest,  do  you?  Well, 
you  didn't  give  the  Lord  any  rest  for  nigh  on 
to  fifteen  minutes,  and  you  passed  His  holy 
name  around  among  men  with  as  little  regard 
for  it  as  you  would  for  Bige  Crabtree's.  Ye 
can't  hardly  stand,  can  you?  Go  on  though, 
go  on,  or  I'll  baste  you  again.  You  had  no 
mercy  for  the  old  man  that  wants  to  do  right 
when  you  got  the  reins  between  your  teeth  and 
started  in  on  your  own  account.  You  can't 
hardly  stand,  can  you  ?  You're  reeling  around 
like  a  drunken  man.  You're  mighty  willing  to 
promise  great  things  now.  You'll  do  better, 
will  you?  You  sacrilegious,  blasphemous  old 
backslider ! " 

Lige  had  reached  the  summit  of  the  long 
hill.  He  had  with  merciless  determination 
forced  himself  up,  and  had  kept  up  a  constant 
stream  of  the  most  violent  haranguing  against 
himself.  He  had  not  spared  the  whip.  When 
the  summit  was  reached  the  poor  old  man  sank 
exhausted  beside  the  road,  murmuring  piti- 
fully: 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON       115 

"My  punishment  is  greater  than  I  can 
bear." 

Abram  knew  him  too  well  to  follow  him 
at  once.  He  hurried  to  the  Squire's,  fortu 
nately  found  him  in,  and  told  the  story. 

"  Poor  father  will,  I  fear,  kill  himself.  He 
has  had  a  terrible  falling  out  with  Lige  the 
First,  as  he  calls  himself  at  times,  and  there  is 
no  telling  to  what  extent  he  may  punish  him. 
Come  with  me,  Mr.  Gray,  and  let  us  go  after 
him." 

Bige  Crabtree,  who  brought  the  mail  from 
the  station  to  the  post  office,  drove  up  as  they 
wrere  talking.  The  Squire  told  him  to  help 
Helen  distribute  the  mail,  jumped  on  the  buck- 
board  with  the  minister,  and  drove  rapidly 
away.  They  found  poor  Lige  quite  insensible 
and  breathing  heavily,  still  grasping  the  cruel 
whip.  There  was  a  look  of  extreme  suffering 
on  his  rugged  features.  His  son  jumped  out, 
gathered  the  poor  old  head  in  his  arms,  and 
said:  "Poor,  poor  father!  The  good  Lord 
would  not  have  punished  you  as  you  have  pun 
ished  yourself.  You  don't  deserve  this,  dear 


116       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

old  dad.  Your  sins  shall  be  made  as  white  as 
snow.  From  this  hour  I  will  devote  my  life, 
my  strength,  and  my  prayers,  to  my  father  on 
earth,  that  my  Father  in  heaven  may  bless  us 
both." 

His  son  continued  to  rub  his  head  and  face 
while  the  Squire  chafed  his  hands  and  wrists. 
Lige  soon  recovered  consciousness,  but  spoke 
no  word.  He  was  taken  to  his  home  and  laid 
upon  his  bed,  while  the  old  wife  hung  over  him 
begging  him  to  speak  to  her.  "  Call  me  Sarah, 
Elijah.  Never  mind  whether  it  is  Elijah  First 
or  Second,  only  call  me  Sarah." 

For  three  or  four  days  Lige  kept  his  bed. 
Then  he  got  up  and  was  about  the  house  sev 
eral  days  before  he  went  to  the  shop.  His  son 
came  back  to  his  old  home  every  night,  read 
ing  the  Bible  and  praying  with  his  old  parents 
before  retiring. 

When  Lige  did  finally  appear  he  was  a 
changed  man,  and  while  at  times  his  wrath 
would  rise  and  the  old  fire  come  into  his  eyes 
he  never  was  heard  again  to  take  the  Lord's 
name  in  vain. 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE  great  drive  of  the  East  Branch 
was  between  Crawford's  Falls  and  Sal 
mon  stream,  which  is  on  the  main  river. 
Gould  was  to  follow  the  river  until  lie 
came  to  the  camp  fires  at  the  head  of  the 
drive.  He  was  to  report  either  to  Mr.  Lum- 
bert,  who  was  the  contractor  of  the  drive,  or 
to  Cummings,  who  was  boss  of  the  head  boats. 
Before  he  had  reached  the  mouth  of  the  Sal 
mon  stream  darkness  had  settled  on  the  woods. 
He  had  enjoyed  his  walk,  for  it  had  given  him 
the  exercise  in  which  he  most  delighted.  He 
was  alone,  and  in  the  primal  woods.  The 
great,  sweet  woods!  He  could  hear  the  river 
as  it  rolled  over  its  rocky  bed  singing  of  its 
freedom  and  joyous  life.  The  great  trees 
appeared  friendly,  and  it  seemed  to  him  that 
they  bestowed  their  benedictions  on  him.  From 
out  of  their  aisles  came  the  extract  of  the 
breath  of  the  forest,  charged  with  a  perfume, 

117 


118        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

a  hope,  a  strength,  a  life-giving  energy — an  air 
which  one  finds  only  in  the  deep  woodland. 
He  was  almost  happy.  What  cared  he  for 
wealth  in  gold  and  houses,  when  this  sweet- 
scented  atmosphere  was  his  for  the  breathing? 
One  could  live  here  always  and  never  know 
want  nor  care  nor  tears,  and  when  the  end 
came  it  would  be  an  euthanasia,  a  dying  as  un 
conscious  of  death  as  of  birth.  How  ''flat, 
stale  and  unprofitable  "  seemed  all  the  usages 
of  city  life  compared  with  this  Elyseum  in  the 
midst  of  the  brotherhood  of  trees!  And  then 
he  thought  of  the  family  he  had  left  on  the 
shores  of  the  river,  made  happy  by  his  helping. 
He  thought  of  the  glad  surprise  of  the  tired 
mother  when  she  should  come  back  to  her  home 
that  night;  of  health  and  hope  restored  to  his 
friend  the  Major.  He  thought,  against  his 
will,  of  the  bright  light  in  the  shining  eyes  of 
little  Madeline.  Then  another  face,  the  face 
of  her  who  bent  over  him  at  the  roadside,  and 
in  pitying  accents  had  said:  "Are  you  tired, 
sir.  Can  I  help  you  ?"  Could  such  a  face  be 
false  and  faithless? 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        119 

The  night  had  fallen.  The  trees  blended  in 
thick-skirted  darkness  along  the  lonely  road. 
Now  and  then  the  wood  owl  sent  out  his  almost 
human  cry,  disturbed  in  his  night  watching  by 
the  intruder.  A  little  wind  had  arisen  and 
moaned  through  the  tree  tops,  but  to  him  it 
was  only  a  strain  of  sweet  music  played  on 
the  furry  pipes  of  the  spruce  and  pine.  It 
only  served  to  soothe  him  and  bring  him  into 
accord  with  the  wholesomeness  of  that  nature 
which  environed  him.  By  and  by  he  heard 
voices  calling  in  excited  tones.  The  road  ap 
proached  the  river  very  closely,  and  as  he  came 
around  a  long  bend  in  both  the  river  and  the 
road  he  saw  for  the  first  time  the  camp  fires  of 
the  river  drivers  on  Penobscot's  waters. 

He  was  soon  able  to  descry  two  or  three  large 
tents,  and  around  a  great  fire  near  one  of 
them  a  group  of  men,  some  sitting,  some 
standing,  and  a  few  lying  down  with  their 
heads  resting  on  a  log  for  a  pillow,  their  wet 
clothes  steaming  like  a  teakettle. 

As  Gould  moved  into  the  light  the  men 
stopped  talking  and  looked  at  him.  Near  the 


120       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

main  fire  a  second  fire  was  burning  in  a  sort 
of  a  pit,  known  among  lumbermen  as  the 
"  bean  hole."  A  man  with  a  long  maple  pole 
was  poking  the  coals  as  Gould  appeared. 
No  one  spoke,  and  Gould  looked  about  to 
discover  a  man  he  thought  might  be  Lumbert 
or  Cummings.  Nothing  about  any  of  the  men 
distinguished  them  as  a  possible  boss.  The 
one  with  the  fire  hook  was  doing  something, 
and  it  occurred  to  Gould  that  he  might  give 
him  some  information.  He  inquired  if  Mr. 
Lumbert  or  Mr.  Cummings  was  about.  The 
cook,  Ben  Eastman,  turned  his  head  to  look 
at  the  questioner  and  without  any  seeming  sur 
prise  or  interest  continued  his  work  saying  in 
an  indifferent  tone : 

'Yeas,  Lumbert  and  Cummings  are  both 
in  the  wall  tent,  jest  above  the  second  fire. 
Lumbert  hurt  his  arm  to-day.  Can't  do  much. 
He  is  meaner  than  a  b'ar  in  the  trap.  Bad 
time  to  see  him  if  you  want  work.  Here  you, 
Frenchy,  go  up  and  show  him  the  boss's  tent." 

This  was  addressed  to  the  "  cookee,"  a  bright 
French  boy  about  eighteen,  named  Henri 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON       121 

Former.  The  boy  jumped  up,  motioning 
Gould  to  follow  him. 

'You  come  me.  I  show  boss,  Cummings 
he  too.  I  run  queek  back.  Old  Boss  shoat 
mouth  Frenchy,  swear  awful.  Ev'y  time  see 
heem." 

The  handsome  face  of  the  French  boy  at 
tracted  Gould  at  once,  and  when  they  had 
passed  beyond  the  hearing  of  the  men,  he  asked, 
"  What  is  your  name? " 

"  Henri  Fornier.  Me  new  on  drive.  Cook 
he  damn  me;  so  do  Boss  she  damn  me;  ev'y 
body  damn  me.  No  hurt  Henri.  Good 
Henri,  but  damn  me." 

"  Do  you  know  Albert  Crosby? " 

"Oui,  oui;  he  good  man  homeseek.  Likum 
pere,  likum  mere.  Go  see  them  queek;  come 
much  queek  back,"  and  pointing  his  finger  at 
a  group  near  the  tent,  he  said:  "Dat  de  boss, 
Cummings  he  stan',  boss  he  down.  Boss  ver' 
mad.  Bad  time  hire  out.  I  go  back.  Bon 
nuit,  Monsieur"  and  in  another  moment  he  was 
out  of  sight. 

Lumbert  was  evidently  out  of  sorts.     One 


122       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

arm  was  bandaged  below  the  elbow,  and  as  he 
talked  he  held  it  with  the  other  hand  as  if  it 
pained  him. 

"  Cummings,  you  are  too  slow.  You  ought 
to  be  half  way  back  to  the  rear  boats  instead  of 
standing  around  growling  about  your  men.  I 
expect  the  upper  drive  is  hung  up,  and  hell's  to 
pay.  I  wonder  what  Crosby  wanted  to  go  back 
for,  just  when  I  needed  him  most.  He  would 
go  and  he  is  too  good  a  man  for  me  to  discharge. 
Said  he  would  be  back  to-morrow.  The  ac 
counts  are  getting  all  mixed  up,  and  I  can't 
keep  them  straight.  And  you  don't  know  a 
damn  thing  about  it,  Cummings.  I  wonder 
why  you  can't  get  a  man  that  can  work  and 
think  too — a  regular  double  ender.  When  a 
man  can  think  he  can't  do  anything  else,  and  if 
he  can  do  anything  he  can't  think  nor  see  five 
minutes  ahead.  Well,  what  have  wre  got 
here?" 

At  that  moment  Gould  had  come  into  the 
fire  light  just  outside  the  tent.  The  great 
bulk  of  Cummings  slowly  swung  around  as 
he  heard  the  footsteps  behind  him.  Lumbert 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON       123 

had  raised  himself  up,  and  was  looking  out 
from  under  his  shaggy  eyebrows  at  Gould. 
There  was  something  in  the  reclining  man  that 
caused  Gould  to  recognize  in  him  the  "Old 
Boss."  He  wore  a  stiff  beard  trimmed  quite 
close  to  the  face,  the  mouth  was  large  but 
drawn  in  a  perfectly  straight  line,  the  hair  a 
dark  gray  and  the  beard  and  mustache  the 
same.  The  eyes  were  blue  and  unquailing  as 
an  eagle's ;  the  voice  was  rough  and  strong,  but 
under  it  there  was  a  note  not  unkind. 

Cummings  was  a  tall  powerful  man  with  a 
long  face,  and  rather  cold  light-blue  eyes.  He 
was  almost  a  giant  in  proportions,  and  in  man 
ners  he  was  undemonstrative.  He  was  the 
boss  of  the  rear,  whom  all  his  men  feared,  for 
as  Lumbert  had  said  of  him,  "  He  can  choke 
the  meanness  out  of  a  Canuck,  drown  an  In 
jun,  and  fight  any  four  Irishmen  to  a  stand 
still." 

"Is  this  Mr.  Lumbert?" 

"Yes,  what  do  you  want?  Damn  funny 
time  for  a  man  to  come  here,  in  the  dead  of 
night.  Got  any  whisky,  stranger?  " 


124       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

This  was  a  salutation  that  was  new  to 
Gould.  He  said  nothing,  but  handing  Lumbert 
a  letter  from  Albert  Crosby,  said:  "I  think 
that  will  explain  who  I  am  and  what  I  am 
here  for." 

"  Damn  it  all,  read  it  all  yourself.  I  got  a 
sore  arm,  lame  foot,  my  head  aches,  the  drive 
is  acting  like  the  devil,  Cummings  is  like  a  bear 
with  his  foot  in  a  trap,  and  I  don't  feel  well 
myself.  But,  I  say,  sonny,  you  are  a  pretty 
one,  ain't  you?" 

"Is  this  Mr.  Cummings?"  said  Gould. 
"  Won't  you  read  it?  " 

"Cummings  read!"  broke  in  Lumbert. 
"  He  can't  read  nothing.  He  is  a  jambuster, 
and  a  good  one,  but  he  can't  read  writing." 

Cummings  took  no  notice  of  what  his  chief 
said,  but  going  nearer  the  fire  read  as  follows : 

MR.  CHARLES  LUMBERT. 

DEAR  SIR  :  This  will  introduce  to  you  Mr.  Jay  Gould, 
who  insists  on  taking  my  place  upon  the  drive.  My 
father  has  been  very  sick  and  is  still  quite  feeble.  Mr. 
Gould  is  a  man  whom  you  can  thoroughly  trust,  I  be 
lieve.  We  have  the  utmost  confidence  in  him.  He  is 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        125 

a  stranger  to  river  driving  but  I  dare  say  he  will  prove 
capable  of  all  things  that  were  required  of  me.  I  shall 
return  at  an  early  date.  Yours  very  truly, 

ALBERT  CROSBY. 

"Hear  that,  Cummings.  Right  on  top  of 
all  my  other  troubles  I  am  sent  a  green  man 
who  looks  as  though  he  had  just  been  run  out 
of  a  Boston  laundry.  What  can  you  do,  any 
way?  Can  you  fiddle?" 

"Yes." 

"He  fiddles!  Well,  he  can't  do  anything 
else,  if  he  fiddles.  Can  you  keep  accounts?" 

"Yes." 

"  Can  you  reckon  up  interest  on  twenty-five 
cents  at  five  and  three-quarters  per  cent,  for  ten 
years  ?  About  the  time  we  have  to  wait  for  the 
Penobscot  Log  Driving  Association  to  pay  us." 

"Yes." 

"  Can  you  bore  a  three-inch  hole  through  a 
log?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Well,  you  are  good  at  yes-ing.  Perhaps 
you  can  weld  a  broken  chain,"  he  said  with  a 
grim  smile. 


126       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

"I  can." 

4  You  can  mend  a  chain?** 

:<  Yes ;  I  am  a  blacksmith  by  trade.'11 

"  Do  you  hear  that,  Cummings?  He  is  a 
blacksmith,  and  look  at  those  hands!  I  think 
I  will  have  to  revise  my  opinion  of  you.  Well, 
here  goes  another:  Can  you  paddle  a  canoe  or 
row  a  boat?" 

"Both." 

"Can  you  handle  a  peavy?" 

"  I  don't  know  what  a  peavy  is." 

'Thank  God,  you  don't  know  everything; 
but  you  know  enough  for  me.  Come  in.  You 
will  bunk  with  me.  Maybe  you  can  bandage 
my  arm,  you  know  so  damn  much." 

"  I  can  bandage  your  arm.  I  have  ban 
dages  and  salves  with  me,  which  I  brought, 
thinking  that  I  might  possibly  meet  with  an 
accident." 

"  I  think  I've  struck  an  angel,  Cummings. 
You  can  get  out  now.  You  must  be  on  the 
road  by  three  o'clock,  for  the  rear.  I  want  to 
find  out  if  all  the  logs  are  out  of  the  Salmon 
stream  pond.  I  have  been  worrying  about 


JAY   GOULD    HARMON       127 

the  logs  jamming  ten  miles  above  the  river. 
There  is  a  sharp  turn  there,  and  we  had  the 
devil's  own  time  there  last  year.  Now  go.  I 
say,  Cummings.  If  those  Dorsey  brothers 
don't  behave  you  disembowel  them  and  I'll  pay 
for  it.  It  will  be  a  small  bill.  Now  come  in 
here,  Cupid." 

"  My  name  is  Gould." 
'That's  a  good  name;  better  than  Cupid. 
Well,   Gould,   how   did  you  happen  to  get 
down  here  in  the  woods?     It's  a  big  change 
from  a  dancing  master  to  a  river  driver." 

"  Mr.  Lumbert,  let  us  understand  each  other. 
I  am  here  to  talk  about  your  business,  your 
work,  and  to  attend  to  it,  and  not  to  talk 
about  my  business  or  my  affairs.  If  you  are 
ready  and  willing  you  can  instruct  me  in  the 
work  I  am  to  do." 

The  rough  log  driver  looked  into  the  steady 
eyes  of  the  man  before  him.  He  had  sense 
enough  in  his  hard  head  to  realize  that  the 
stranger  was  no  trifler;  neither  could  he  be 
treated  as  Lumbert  was  in  the  habit  of  treat 
ing  other  men. 


128       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

"  See  here,  Gould,  I  am  a  rough  man,  but 
you  impress  me.  I  have  been  looking  for 
somebody  like  you,  if  you  can  do  all  you  say 
you  can.  That  fiddle  rather  upset  me.  No 
one  but  a  Frenchman  can  fiddle  and  do  any 
thing  else.  I  have  got  a  little  French  '  cookee ' 
down  here  who  can  almost  make  me  dance,  as 
big  and  old  as  I  am.  I  like  the  little  cuss, 
but  to  keep  the  upper  hand  you  have  to  make 
every  man  on  the  drive  think  you  are  just 
thirsting  for  his  blood. 

"  My,  my,  but  my  old  arm  does  ache !  Can't 
you  help  a  poor  devil? " 

"  Yes,  I  think  I  can  take  the  pain  out  of  it, 
if  I  can  get  a  little  hot  water." 

"Just  step  outside  of  the  tent  and  yell 
'Frenchy,'  and  he'll  come.  He  is  right  on 
his  taps  as  a  rule." 

Gould  stepped  to  the  door  and  in  full  rich 
tones  shouted,  "  Henri! "  giving  the  boy's  name 
as  the  French  pronounce  it — "  Ong-re."  In  a 
surprisingly  short  time  the  boy  appeared 
with  his  face  radiant  as  he  said,  "You  spik 
French?" 


JAY   GOULD    HARMON       129 

"Very  little,  Henri.  Can  you  bring  me 
some  hot  water  at  once? " 

"  Oui,  oui."  And  without  another  word  the 
boy  sped  away.  He  was  soon  back  with  a  pail 
of  hot  water  and  a  small  tin  dipper. 

"  I  tinks  old  boss  has  no  deeper." 

"You  are  thoughtful,  Henri." 

'You  wants  more  queek?" 

"No.  This  will  do  for  to-night."  He 
entered  the  tent,  walked  up  to  Lumbert,  took 
the  great  hand,  and  without  a  word  proceeded 
to  unbandage  it.  When  exposed  the  arm 
showed  that  it  had  been  much  bruised.  It  was 
black  and  blue  in  many  places,  but  the  skin 
was  not  broken. 

"  Can  you  stand  a  little  pain  for  a  few 
minutes,  Mr.  Lumbert?" 

"  Damn  it,  yes ;  for  you  have  got  a  touch  like 
a  woman." 

Gould  laid  the  bruised  arm  upon  the  edge 
of  the  rough  cot  and  began  to  bathe  it  in  the 
hot  water,  gently  but  firmly,  and  then  to  mas 
sage  it.  At  first  Lumbert  winced,  but  grad 
ually  his  head  sank  back  upon  the  rough  pil- 


low  and  he  closed  his  eyes,  and  before  Gould 
had  finished  bandaging  the  arm  Lumbert  was 
sound  asleep. 

Gould  was  awakened  next  morning  by 
hearing  Lumbert  call  out,  "  Well,  young  man, 
if  you  are  going  with  me  you  had  better  get  a 
wiggle  on  yer." 

For  a  moment  Gould  was  at  a  loss  to  place 
himself.  Where  was  he?  His  rest  had  been 
perfect  and  his  sleep  so  profound  that  it 
was  difficult  for  him  to  throw  it  off.  He 
sprang  up  to  see  a  big  figure  standing  in  the 
fire  light  in  the  front  of  the  tent. 

'  You  go  down  to  the  river  and  splash  the 
Penobscot  in  yer  face,  and  it  will  take  the  bats 
out  of  your  belfry." 

For  the  first  time  in  his  life  Gould  had 
slept  through  the  night  without  disrobing.  He 
began  to  feel  uncomfortable. 

"  I  think  I  will  take  a  dip." 

"You  will  find  one  right  behind  the  box," 
said  Lumbert,  mistaking  Gould's  meaning. 

"  Oh,  I  mean  a  swim,"  laughingly  replied 
Gould. 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON       131 

"  Well,  be  quick  about  it,  and  don't  let  the 
logs  take  you  down  to  Mattawamkeag." 

"  I  will  look  after  that." 

Gould  was  refreshed  by  his  bath.  There 
was  a  stimulation  in  that  rolling,  fresh  water 
that  he  had  not  experienced  in  any  other.  It 
seemed  like  the  primal  fluid  of  nature,  charg 
ing  him  with  a  new  energy.  The  morning  was 
beautiful.  The  sun  had  not  yet  risen,  but 
daylight  had  come,  the  air  seemed  "like  a 
drink-diet,"  and  as  Pope  has  said,  "  contents 
our  natural  desires."  This  occurred  to  our 
hero  as  he  stood  on  the  banks  of  the  flowing 
river  on  that  early  August  morning.  He 
realized  that  he  was  moving  into  the  unknown. 
He  had  no  plan,  scarcely  cared  what  hap 
pened  as  long  as  he  could  do  something;  be 
of  service  to  someone;  redeem  himself  in  the 
estimation  of  himself. 

While  dressing  he  heard  Lumbert  call: 

"Gould,  beans  are  waiting  for  yer.  Ye 
better  take  'em  while  they're  hot  and  the  grease 
runs." 

"  I'll  be  with  you  in  a  moment." 


132        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

"  I  say,  young  man,"  began  Lumbert, 
"  would  yer  mind  rubbing  my  old  arm  a  little 
again  this  morning?  That  woman's  touch  of 
yours  takes  the  pain  out,  and  I  slept  like  a 
log.  Did  I  snore?" 

"  I  couldn't  say,  Mr.  Lumbert.  Every 
thing  was  a  blank  to  me." 

Lumbert  rolled  up  his  sleeve,  and  Gould 
began  his  gentle  massage. 

"I  think  that'll  do,  young  man.  I  shall 
have  to  allow  you  about  ten  dollars  a  month 
extra  for  doctoring  me." 

As  Lumbert  was  buttoning  his  sleeve  he 
said.  "  See  here,  young  man,  I  suppose  when 
you  get  good  and  ready  you  will  tell  me  who 
you  are,  but  I  shan't  ask  you — I  am  going  to 
trust  you  just  on  your  looks.  If  you  can  back 
them  up  you  are  a  damn  good  fellow.  But 
many  a  poor  fool  has  been  sold  by  good  looks. 
May  be  I  shall  be  too." 

"I  think  not,"  said  Gould,  "but  it  might 
be  well  enough  for  you  to  'watch  out'  until 
you  know  me  better." 

Gould  had  conceived  a  decided  liking  for 


JAY   GOULD    HARMON       133 

the  rough  old  man.  He  saw  that  under  his 
rude  manners  there  was  a  warm,  kindly  feel 
ing;  a  heart  that  mistrusted  itself  and  out 
wardly  affected  a  sternness  in  order  to  dis 
guise  its  real  gentleness,  which  would  be  con 
strued  as  a  weakness  among  the  rough  ele 
ment  with  which  it  had  to  deal. 

"  Breakfast  is  ready.  We'll  eat  ours  in  the 
cook's  tent.  You  want  to  eat  a  big  breakfast ; 
you  may  not  get  another  thing  to-day.  We've 
got  a  lively  time  ahead  of  us.  Jim  Gramme 
has  just  come  down  from  Grand  Falls,  sent  by 
Cummings,  and  he  says  the  logs  are  hung 
above  the  Falls  in  bad  shape.  Piles  high  as  a 
mountain.  Something  has  got  to  be  done  to 
break  that  jam,  or  it'll  break  me.  We'll  take 
the  big  canoe,  and  you,  Jim  and  I  will  go  up 
there,  and  we'll  bust  something.  You'll  work 
in  some  way.  Here,  you  take  this  book  and 
pencil,  and  keep  'counts.  They  give  me  more 
trouble  than  a  crew  of  men. 

"Where's  Frenchy,  Eastman?" 

"  He's  gone  to  carry  breakfast  to  the  men  on 
the  head." 


134       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

"  Bring  us  something  quick.  Yell  out  for 
Gramme  to  come  up.  He's  down  getting  the 
canoe  ready.  Tell  Mac  to  wait  there  for  us." 

The  two  men  sat  down  at  the  rough  table, 
and  were  soon  joined  by  Gramme. 

Both  Gould  and  Gramme  were  surprised 
when  they  saw  each  other.  They  had  not  met 
since  the  unfortunate  event  at  John  Crosby's. 
Lumbert  had  sent  an  urgent  request  to 
Gramme  to  join  him  on  the  drive,  agreeing  to 
pay  him  more  than  he  could  get  haying. 
Gramme  seemed  confused,  but  Gould  offered 
his  hand,  saying,  "  I  am  very  glad  to  meet 
you  again.  It  gives  me  an  opportunity  to 
thank  you  for  an  unusual  service.  I  hope  the 
time  may  come  when  I  can  prove  my  gratitude 
in  a  more  substantial  manner." 

The  boyish  face  of  Gramme  flushed.  He 
had  seen  the  surprised  look  in  the  countenance 
of  Lumbert,  but  he  managed  to  say,  "  I  don't 
think  anyone  knows  about  it.  I  haven't  said 
anything." 

"  I  should  like  to  know  what  this  is  all  about," 
broke  in  Lumbert.  "Where  did  you  two 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON       135 

meet?  What's  this  about  gratitude,  sincerity, 
etc.?  You  are  the  most  mysterious  cuss, 
Gould,  I  ever  knew,"  he  said  half  querul 
ously.  'You  are  a  regular  two-legged  con 
undrum.  But  we  must  get  out  of  here.  Is 
everything  ready,  Gramme? " 

'Yes,  and  Mac  is  waiting  on  shore  to  see 
you." 

When  they  reached  the  canoe,  Lumbert  said, 
"Mac,  this  is  my  new  infant,  born  last  night 
as  far  as  I  know  anything  about  him.  His 
name  is  Gould.  Wants  a  little  river  driv 
ing.  What  do  yer  think  about  him?" 

A  note  of  pride  could  be  detected  in  Lum- 
bert's  voice  as  he  introduced  the  athletic 
stranger.  McCausland,  who  was  boss  "  on  the 
head,"  put  out  his  hand,  saying,  "  You've  got 
everything  in  your  favor.  You  are  young, 
strong,  and  long-legged.  They  all  count  on 
the  drive.  Don't  let  the  old  drivers  fool  you, 
though." 

"Shove  her  off,  Gramme,"  said  Lumbert. 
"You  use  the  stern  paddle,  Gould.  Keep 
the  head  moving,  Mac.  We're  going  ter  break 


136       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

that  jam  if  we  have  to  get  an  earthquake  to 
help  us.  Let  her  go,  boys,"  and  in  a  moment 
they  were  moving  up  stream.  Lumbert  sat  in 
open-eyed  astonishment  as  he  watched  how 
skillfully  and  quietly  Gould's  paddle  dipped, 
dipped,  dipped,  with  rhythmic  and  powerful 
regularity,  and  in  perfect  accord  with  the 
stroke  of  the  man  in  the  bow. 

'  You'll  do,  young  man.  You  say  they  larn 
those  things  in  colleges?  I  used  to  think  they 
used  books  there,  when  I  was  a  young  man, 
but  I  understand  they've  dropped  them  all,  and 
just  use  boxing  gloves,  bat  sticks,  padded 
breeches,  long  hair,  oars,  and  it  seems  they've 
added  paddles.  Well,  if  they're  going  to  be 
river  drivers  it's  the  best  thing  they  can  do. 
You  must  have  got  your  lesson  pretty  good, 
for  you  paddle  better  than  an  Injun.  But  the 
logs  are  coming  thick.  Here,  you  take  the 
pole,  Jim.  Keep  the  logs  away.  The  infant 
will  ke°p  the  canoe  moving."  Gramme  threw 
down  the  paddle  and  seizing  the  pole,  began  to 
push  the  on-coming  logs  aside,  Gould  urging 
the  canoe  along  with  perfect  ease. 


CHAPTER  VII 

HOW  grand  it  was  to  be  here!  He 
had  heard  that  in  this  exciting  and 
dangerous  service  men  lost  all  sight 
of  wages  or  reward,  their  supreme  purpose 
being  that  the  drive  go  down  to  the  Argyle 
boom.  This  was  their  reward,  for  they 
were  the  visitors  that  had  triumphantly  con 
tended  with  the  wild  rivers  ferre  de  rockers 
(shod  with  rocks) . 

This  was  life.  There  was  something  of  the 
heroic  about  it.  He  was  doing  something.  At 
last  he  was  geared  into  the  machinery  that  was 
moving  the  world.  He  was  a  live  wire. 

The  great  forests  rolled  back  on  either  shore ; 
the  tall  trees  seemed  to  nod  their  approval  of 
him.  The  on-rushing  logs,  the  bright,  gliding 
river,  the  pure  morning  air  that  one  could 
almost  drink  from  out  those  forest  aisles, 
the  sun  just  rising  over  the  tree  tops  like  a 
god  smiling  on  a  contented  universe.  Every- 

137 


thing  stirred  him  to  effort.  He  felt  a  new  joy 
pulsating  through  every  fiber  of  his  being. 
This  was  life,  abundant  and  o'erflowing.  No 
wonder  that  in  the  midst  of  such  scenes  men 
lost  sight  of  mere  pecuniary  reward. 

For  an  hour  the  canoe  moved  on.  Finally 
Gramme  threw  down  the  pole,  and  said,  "  Give 
me  the  paddle  again.  Mr.  Gould's  guiding 
of  the  canoe  makes  the  pole  unnecessary.  I 
never  saw  such  work  with  a  paddle  before." 

"  I  guess,  Jim,  you  and  I  was  thinking  along 
the  same  line.  I  am  going  to  feel  of  this 
infant's  muscles  when  I  get  a  chance.  Ain't 
yer  tired,  Gould? " 

"Just  a  little,  but  I  can  paddle  to  the  Falls; 
we  are  very  near  them,  I  take  it,  judging  by 
the  roar  we  hear." 

'  Yes,  I  can  see  the  men,  working  on  the 
lip  of  the  Falls.  Why  the  logs  are  shingled 
right  over!  How  did  that  happen,  Jim?" 

"  I  can't  exactly  tell.  Cummings  will  ex 
plain.  There  is  quite  a  little  channel  opened 
over  the  Falls,  and  if  they  can  keep  it  open  we 
can  pick  off  logs  pretty  fast.  I  think  we  had 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON       139 

better  run  up  into  the  Millinocket  with  the 
canoe." 

"  For  sure,"  replied  Lumbert.  "  By  G — d, 
ain't  they  piled  up!  Run  up  into  that  little 
river.  We'll  leave  the  canoe  there,  and  climb 
to  the  Falls." 

Gould  now  could  hear  the  roar  of  the 
waters  and  see  the  foam  floating  around  like 
white  islands  in  the  eddy  near  the  mouth  of  the 
Millinocket.  What  a  power  there  was  in  that 
wild,  tumbling  cataract!  A  power  more  than 
wasted,  for  it  was  now  an  impediment  and  dan 
gerous.  Why  had  it  not  been  harnessed  as 
the  Falls  of  Niagara  had  been,  and  made  to 
send  a  measureless  and  thrilling  power  along 
the  wires  of  distribution?  This  thought  had 
possessed  him  to  the  exclusion  of  every  other 
idea.  He  was  recalled  by  a  shout  from  Lum 
bert,  who,  in  a  surprised  and  somewhat  impera 
tive  tone,  called  out: 

"  What  are  you  doing,  man?  Don't  you  see 
you  are  running  straight  for  the  wing  logs?" 

The  blood  rushed  into  Gould's  face.  In 
an  instant  he  sunk  the  paddle  deep  into  the 


140       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

water,  under  the  sharp  stern  of  the  canoe,  and, 
with  a  deft  stroke,  swung  the  craft  skillfully 
along  the  outlying  logs  and  brought  it  to  a 
standstill. 

"Well  done,"  said  Lumbert  as  he  stepped 
out  of  the  little  vessel.  "  I  thought  you  didn't 
know  what  you  was  about,  you  had  such  a  far 
away  look  in  yer  face,  but  I'll  take  it  all  back. 
You  was  just  trying  to  show  us  what  you 
could  do." 

To  Lumbert's  surprise,  Gould  answered, 
"  No,  sir.  I  was  indeed  thinking  of  something 
else,  and  if  it  had  not  been  for  you  I  should 
have  wrecked  the  canoe.  I  deserve  no  credit." 

Lumbert  looked  at  Gould  in  astonishment. 
"Well,  by  the  Great  Horn  Spoon!  I  can't 
understand  you.  Did  ye  hear  that,  Jim?  Jest 
when  I  was  laying  it  on  thick  he  kicks  it  all 
over  and  says  he  was  to  blame  and  that  I  saved 
the  boat.  Well,  I  swear!  When  a  man  is 
really  honest,  and  insists  on  telling  the  truth, 
he  still  astonishes  the  world.  I  say,  Gould, 
you'll  be  dreadful  lonesome  up  among  the  boys. 
Won't  he,  Jim?" 


But  Jim  was  busy  pulling  the  canoe  over  the 
logs  and  on  to  the  bank,  Gould  helping  him. 

"Mr.  Lumbert,"  said  Gould,  as  the  three 
men  started  towards  the  Falls,  "has  it  ever 
occurred  to  you  that  there  is  a  grand  power 
running  to  waste? " 

"  Certainly.  We've  talked  about  it  for 
forty  years,  and  it  oughter  be  did.  Here  is 
power  enough  to  light  the  whole  Penobscot 
valley,  but  the  P.  L.  A.  controls  everything  up 
here  and  wouldn't  let  us  use  the  water.  But 
it'll  come  some  day." 

"  How  did  this  jam  happen,  Gramme? " 
said  Lumbert.  "  You  ought  to  know." 

"  Well,  'bout  this  way,  as  near  as  I  can 
learn:  You  know  the  little  island  where  the 
river  broadens  just  before  you  reach  the  big 
bend?" 

"Yes.  Now  you  listen,  Gould,  and  you 
may  learn  something." 

"Well,"  continued  Gramme,  "the  logs  be 
gan  to  shingle  on  the  northwest  side  of  the 
island.  They  were  not  running  fast  enough 
to  pile  up,  but  kept  shingling  and  winging 


142       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

out  until  they  caught  every  log  running. 
Cummings  saw  that  they  would  swing  into  the 
south  when  the  pressure  got  strong  enough ;  so 
he  sent  a  lot  of  men  down  to  the  bend  to  turn 
the  logs  and  send  them  over  the  Falls  without 
their  lodging  on  the  right  bank.  But,  gee  whiz ! 
when  they  swung  around  and  got  into  the  swift 
water  you  might  as  well  have  tried  to  stop  a 
comet.  They  came  down  side-ways,  length 
ways,  cross-ways,  some  underneath,  some  on 
top,  and  sometimes  three  logs  deep;  and  they 
crowded  and  crashed  against  the  south  shore, 
so  that  the  water  flew  all  around,  fairly  blinding 
the  men,  and  there  was  such  a  roaring,  crashing 
and  smashing,  that  we  had  to  get  out  to  save 
our  lives,  leaving  the  hand-spikes  and  poles 
where  they  were.  Cummings  tore  around  like 
a  wild  man,  and  when  the  men  came  back  there 
wasn't  half  of  them  had  any  tools  to  do  with. 
The  handles  of  the  peavies  were  broken,  a  good 
many  of  the  dogs  were  torn  away  from  the 
sleeves,  the  poles  were  broken  off,  and  in  some 
cases  the  points.  Well,  there  we  were,  and  it 
was  plain  to  see  that  as  soon  as  those  logs 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON       143 

winged  out  again  into  the  current  they  would 
start  towards  the  Falls.  About  eight  o'clock 
they  hauled  out  again,  and  from  the  bend  to  the 
Falls  it  was  the  wildest  sight  I  ever  saw  on  this 
river.  They  caught  on  something  on  the  right 
shore,  and  there  they  are,  piled  thirty  feet  high, 
and  only  that  little  channel  left  between  the 
two  shores  to  run  out  the  logs.  If  we  can't 
keep  that  open  we  shan't  see  the  Argyle  boom 
this  year." 

"  We'll  keep  it  open,  if  we  have  to  dynamite 
the  whole  Falls!  How  many  men  are  there 
here? " 

"There's  Cummings  on  the  other  side;  he'll 
tell  you." 

"How  many  men  have  you  got,  Cum 
mings?"  shouted  Lumbert. 

"Twenty-five,"  came  the  reply.  "But  we 
haven't  got  poles  or  peavies  for  half  that 
number." 

"Where's  your  blacksmith?"  Lumbert 
shouted  back. 

"Went  home  last  night,  sick;  said  he'd 
send  another  man." 


144       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

"Well  that's  a  hell  of  a  fix!  Where's  the 
forge? " 

"It's  on  this  side  of  the  river.  Every 
thing's  here:  extra  poles,  sleeves,  dogs,  peavy 
handles  and  charcoal,  but  no  blacksmith. 
What  can  be  done? " 

"Wait  a  moment,"  thundered  Lumbert, 
"  Look  a-here,  young  man,"  said  the  boss,  turn 
ing  to  Gould.  "Did  I  understand  you  to 
say  that  you  could  blacksmith?" 

"You  did. 

"Can  you  use  a  forge?" 

"  I  can." 

"Thank  God  for  something!  It's  worth 
two  hundred  dollars  to  me  to  keep  that  throat 
open  until  we  can  pick  off  the  logs,  and  I'll 
give  it  to  you  if  you'll  repair  these  tools  and 
fix  up  the  new  ones,  so  that  I  can  keep  those 
logs  moving." 

"I  say,  Cummings,  you  have  every  galoot 
that  has  got  a  broken  peavy  or  pole  carry  them 
to  the  forge,  and  start  up  a  fire.  We've  got  a 
blacksmith  here,  and  God  Almighty  must  have 
sent  him.  Keep  every  man  at  work  who  has  a 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        145 

peavy  or  pole,  and  let  the  rest  stand  ready  for 
new  ones." 

"All  right." 

Gramme  had  rushed  ahead,  and  when  Lum- 
bert  and  Gould  reached  the  forge  the  fire 
had  been  started. 

Gould  saw  at  a  glance  that  every  necessary 
tool  was  at  hand.  He  put  on  his  apron  and 
went  to  work  with  a  will.  And  how  he  worked ! 
He  seemed  like  an  inspired  man,  and  Gramme 
stood  at  his  side  seconding  him  in  every  move 
ment.  Lumbert  had  watched  with  growing 
wonder  the  work  of  this  remarkable  man. 
Who  was  he?  Would  he  ever  reveal  himself, 
this  handsome,  soft-handed,  silent  man,  that 
had  so  unaccountably  come  into  his  life,  and 
had  taken  the  name  of  the  great  New  York 
king  of  finance? 

One  by  one  the  men  had  been  equipped  in  a 
marvelously  short  time;  the  tools  had  been  re 
paired  or  new  ones  put  together  and  most  of 
the  men  had  .gone  to  their  work,  and  were 
making  swift  progress  in  picking  off  the  logs 
and  pushing  them  into  the  stream.  The  rush 


146       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

was  over,  but  Gould  was  still  working  when 
Lumbert  advanced  to  the  forge,  his  voice 
choked  with  feeling,  and  said,  "Look  here, 
youngster,  do  you  know  what  you've  done?" 

"Why,  yes;  I've  been  blacksmithing,  and 
have  really  enjoyed  it.  It  did  me  good." 

"Blacksmithing!"  said  Lumbert  disgust 
edly:  "  You've  saved  me  and  the  whole  West 
Branch  drive.  And  ye  ain't  swore  once,  nor 
got  out  of  temper.  That's  the  unaccounta- 
blest  thing  to  me.  Three  of  the  best  men  I 
ever  knew,  Jim  Gramme,  Albert  Crosby  and 
you,  yerself,  don't  swear.  How  d'ye  do  it? 
It  just  seems  to  bubble  right  out  of  us  river 
drivers.  I  believe  I'm  a  blame  fool!  But  I 
want  to  tell  yer  it  looks  as  though  we're  all 
right  if  we  don't  have  an  accident.  I  want 
ye  to  stay  with  me  till  we  get  done.  Will  ye 
promise?  The  two  hundred  dollars  is  extra 
for  yer  wages,  ye  know ! " 

"I'll  stay  with  you,  Mr.  Lumbert,  to  the 
end.  I  think  I  am  really  enjoying  myself; 
but  you  are  setting  too  high  a  value  on  my 
services." 


147 

"  Not  a  damn  bit  of  it — I  mean,  not  a  bit  of 
it.  How  do  you  shut  off  your  flood  gate, 
when  you  want  to  swear?  You  must  want  to 
once  in  a  while!  Don't  you  think  it  makes 
men  hyper  round  when  they  are  sojering  on 
yer?" 

"  It  never  occurred  to  me  that  the  word  of 
such  a  man  as  I  take  you  to  be  needed  the 
endorsement  of  an  oath;  but  it  may  be  that  in 
this  country  it  is  more  or  less  customary." 

For  a  moment  Lumbert  stood  perfectly 
still;  then  he  turned  away,  saying,  "  Come  to 
me  when  you  are  through  here.  If  you  remain 
here  to-night,  you  bunk  in  my  tent."  As  he 
moved  out,  he  was  heard  to  mutter  to  himself: 
"  It  never  occurred  to  me  that  the  word  of  such 
a  man  as  I  take  you  to  be  needed  the  endorse 
ment  of  an  oath."  The  seed  had  taken  root. 

Gould  had  finished  his  work,  and  Cum- 
mings,  who  had  met  him  the  day  before,  called 
down  to  him  saying,  "If  you  have  never  seen 
a  jam  picked  it  will  interest  you  to  watch  us. 
Come  round  on  this  side.  It's  going  to  be 
pretty  lively  work  keeping  the  channel  open 


148        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

from  here  to  the  Falls.  If  the  logs  should 
catch  above  and  haul  off  again,  it  would  plug 
up  everything,  and  I'm  afraid  ruin  the  old 
man.  Come  round  on  this  side.  You  mustn't 
be  surprised  if  you  hear  me  holler  to  take  a 
head  off.  We  do  it  to  keep  the  men  at  a  high 
pitch  of  nervous  work.  See  'em  climb  the  logs ! 
It's  a  big  fight  for  us.  Be  careful.  Don't 
try  to  come  out." 

"  Let  me  go  with  you,"  cried  Gould,  catch 
ing  the  excitement  of  the  hour.  "  I  must  be 
in  that  struggle!  It  will  beat  any  football 
game  the  world  ever  saw!  " 

Cummings  was  off  before  Gould  had  fin 
ished  speaking,  but  he  moved  on  to  the  lower 
side,  where  he  met  the  "  old  man,"  as  the  boys 
affectionately  called  him. 

"Where  ye  going,  Gould?  " 

"  I  am  going  to  have  a  hand  in  this  fight.  I 
can't  stand  here.  Give  me  a  peavy,  or  some 
thing — my  blood  is  up!  I  can  pry  off  the  logs 
near  the  shore." 

"Well,  be  careful  and  not  get  hurt,  and 
don't  fall  into  the  water.  Take  no  chances, 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        149 

for  ye  know  you  are  worth  any  four  men  I've 
got. 

"  But  hear  Cummings  roar,  Gould.  You'll 
see  a  lively  time  now.  Listen !  " 

And  from  the  top  of  the  huge  pile  of  logs 
Cummings  roared  out  his  orders: 

"  Keep  him  there,  Neddo!  Quick,  Frenchy, 
swing  him  round!  Run  out  to  the  point! 
Tip  her  up!  Now  let  her  roll!  There  she 
goes!  Good!  Come  up  here,  Injin!  What's 
the  matter  with  yer  feet?  they're  slow!  Pry 
out  that  big  hemlock!  Throw  in  yer  peavy, 
Pratt!  There  she  comes.  Jump  over,  Irish! 
Let  her  roll.  Look  out,  all  of  you!  Look  out 
all  of  you!  They're  coming!  Don't  try  to 
run,  but  jump  them!  Climb!  Climb! 
Climb!  Keep  on  top,  or  they'll  pulverize  ye! 
Look  out  for  that  crooked  cedar,  Dorsey! 
There  she  goes!  All  come  here!  Lift  out 
that  spruce,  it  holds  half  a  dozen  others! 
Throw  in  your  dogs!  Now,  lift,  ye  devils, 
lift!  Now,  let  her  go!  The  whole  top  is 
moving!  Run  to  the  end,  Frenchy.  Injin, 
you  keep  here!  Run,  ye  weasel,  or  they'll 


150       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

take  ye  down!  Hurry!  Hurry!  They  will 
be  lost.  Give  me  your  hand,  Frenchy!  There 
ye  are,  all  safe!  Where's  Dorsey? " 

'  That  crooked  cedar  knocked  him  down," 
replied  Gramme. 

"Poor  devil!  His  shoes  are  too  large  for 
his  body!  Go  below,  men,  and  pull  out  that 
long  hemlock!  She  is  holding  back  ten  or 
twelve  others.  When  she  starts,  don't  run  to 
the  water.  The  current  is  too  swift.  Run  to 
the  ends,  or  climb.  All  ready!  Keep  on  top, 
you  mosquitoes !  Look  out  now!  She's  com 
ing!  Hurry  up,  Fornier!  Run!  Run! 
That's  good!  Keep  on  top!  Jump,  Injin! 
You're  doing  well!  Good!  You're  safe! 
Hold  a  minute ! " 

Cummings  ran  down  the  logs  and  looked 
into  the  huge  pile  of  jack-straws  that  he  might 
judge  where  to  continue  picking.  Gramme 
called  to  him,  saying,  "Here  comes  Gould 
with  a  peavy." 

"  Stop  him !  Stop  the  fool,"  said  Cum 
mings,  "or  he'll  be  greasing  the  water  in  five 
minutes!  v 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        151 

"Five  of  you  come  here.  Here's  an  old 
sockdolager  of  a  hemlock  that  is  binding  the 
whole  pile.  If  we  can  move  him,  he  will  re 
lease  a  hundred  logs.  Now,  set  your  peavies 
in!  Lift!  Lift!  Lift,  ye  devils!  Stop  grunt 
ing,  and  lift!  Lift  there,  Injin!  You're 
pfapm'lift!" 

"  Got  to  have  another  man,"  said  Gramme, 
his  face  pale  with  exertion. 

At  that  moment  Gould's  tall  figure  ap 
peared  upon  the  brow  of  the  mountain  of  logs. 
Without  a  word  he  sprang  to  where  the  men 
stood  around  the  big  log  and  flung  his  peavy, 
sinking  the  dog  deep  in  its  side,  and,  placing  his 
shoulder  under  the  handle,  in  concert  with  the 
other  straining  men  he  lifted  with  all  his 
strength.  The  log  began  to  move  and  was 
soon  rolled  out ;  at  the  same  time  the  whole  top 
began  to  take  on  life  and  to  move  down  towards 
the  rushing  stream. 

"  For  God's  sake,  man,  how  came  you  here? " 
said  Cummings,  rushing  towards  Gould. 
"Here,  take  my  hand!  Jump  for  your  life! 
Keep  on  top  of  the  logs !  Don't  go  with  them ! 


152        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

Jump!  Jump!  There!  There!  You're 
safe!  Now,  you  go  down  below,  and  stay 
there.  I  haven't  been  so  frightened  in  five 
years !  Go!  I'm  boss  here ! " 

"  Mr.  Cummings,"  said  Gould,  with  cool 
determination,  "I'm  no  better  than  any  other 
man  under  your  charge.  I  propose  to  remain 
and  do  what  I  can.  I'll  take  your  orders  to 
work,  but  not  to  stand  still." 

"Well,  keep  near  me,  then,"  he  said,  "and 
do  as  I  tell  you. 

"  Frenchy,  run  to  the  end  of  that  long 
spruce  and  tip  it  up!  There  she  rises!  Jump 
and  let  her  go !  There'll  be  trouble  here  when 
we  get  these  two  binding  logs  out.  Now,  dig 
out  of  the  bottom,  all  o'  ye !  Fly!  Fly!  You 
seven  nations!  Work!  Pry  'em  out!  Pry 
'em  out!  Shove  out  their  noses!  Why!  yer 
slow!  Yer  slow !  Yer  stock  still!  Yer  dead! 
We'll  have  a  funeral!" 

All  this  time  the  men  were  working  almost 
beyond  human  endurance.  They  were  strung 
up  to  the  highest  pitch  of  excitement,  and  how 
they  kept  their  feet  and  did  their  work,  with 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        153 

the  rushing  river  in  front,  ready  and  eager  to 
take  their  lives  if  they  for  a  moment  lost  their 
footing  and  fell  into  the  remorseless  water, 
was  a  wonder.  The  logs  under  them  seemed 
alive,  and  every  little  while  a  score  or  more 
would  come  thundering  down  the  declivity, 
and  they  must  avoid  them  or  be  crushed  to 
death.  Suddenly  there  was  a  pause  among 
the  men. 

"What's  the  matter  down  there,  Gramme?" 

"About  halfway  up  there  are  two  heavy 
pulp  sticks  standing  right  up  and  down;  they 
are  all  banked  in  by  the  logs,  and  the  small  one 
has  got  to  be  cut!  Who's  got  an  ax?" 

"I  say,  men,"  cried  Cummings,  "you  go  up 
towards  the  bend  and  pry  out  while  we  cut  this 
log.  Don't  let  the  men  go  far.  Are  you 
going  to  cut  it,  Gramme?  It's  a  mighty  risky 
job!  You've  got  to  run  before  it  breaks,  or 
you'll  never  run  again.  As  soon  as  it  begins 
to  crack,  you  light  out  for  yer  life!" 

Gramme  was  almost  a  giant  in  proportions, 
but  had  a  boyish  face.  It  was  a  good  face, 
and  one  to  be  trusted  in  any  emergency.  The 


154        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

crew  appreciated  the  danger  attending  the  cut 
ting  of  the  upright  log.  Should  it  break  sud 
denly,  no  man  could  escape  before  the  logs 
would  roll  upon  him,  and  crush  him  to  death. 
To  cut  it  in  the  right  place,  and  just  enough 
to  have  it  break  slowly,  was  what  Gramme 
must  do  or  lose  his  life.  There  was  no  fear  on 
his  face  as  he  advanced  ax  in  hand  under  those 
menacing  logs. 

Lumbert  had  come  part  way  up  the  north 
side,  and  a  little  in  front  of  him  stood  Gould. 
There  was  a  look  of  terrible  anxiety  on  the 
faces  of  both  men,  as  the  unconscious  hero 
with  unfaltering  step  advanced  to  his  perilous 
work.  The  men  below  ceased  working  and 
held  their  breath  when  they  saw  Gramme  swing 
the  ax  and  sink  its  blade  deep  into  the  upright 
spruce.  He  was  seen  to  try  to  withdraw  the 
ax,  but  the  terrible  pinch  held  the  blade  as  in 
a  vise.  There  was  a  crack!  The  top  of  the 
log  began  to  bend,  and  the  main  logs  to  settle 
and  move.  The  men  were  watching  the  logs 
with  breathless  interest. 

"  Run  back,  Gramme!    Run  for  your  life ! " 


cried  Lumbert.     "  The  stick  is  bending.     For 
God's  sake,  run! " 

Gramme  turned  and  ran  along  the  logs  to 
the  north  side.  He  could  hear  the  creaking  and 
cracking  of  the  fibers  of  the  spruce.  The  logs 
had  not  started,  but  had  moved  and  settled  a 
little.  In  another  moment  he  would  be  safe! 
But,  unfortunately,  he  stepped  upon  the  loos 
ened  bark  of  a  young  spruce,  which  slipped  off, 
and  he  stumbled  and  fell  headforemost  down 
among  the  logs  and  out  of  sight. 

A  groan  went  up  from  every  watching  man, 
but  before  anyone  else  could  move  Gould 
had  leaped  across  the  logs  and  down  the  lab 
yrinth  of  timber.  He  found  Gramme  with 
his  head  crowded  between  two  logs,  and  blood 
running  from  a  cut  just  above  his  ear.  He 
called  anxiously,  but  there  was  no  reply.  It 
took  a  strong  man  to  raise  Gramme's  inert  body 
from  its  position,  but  by  the  time  he  had  lifted 
the  head  and  shoulders  there  were  more  than  a 
score  of  faces  looking  down  upon  them,  and 
nearly  half  a  hundred  strong  hands  eager  to 
help. 


156       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

The  unconscious  man  was  borne  to  the  cook's 
tent  as  gently  as  the  chaotic  condition  of  the 
rough  way  would  permit.  He  was  soon  re 
stored  to  consciousness,  and  it  was  found  that 
his  injuries  were  not  serious. 

Old  Joe  Fornier,  the  father  of  Henri,  was 
left  to  care  for  him,  while  the  crew  returned 
to  their  work.  The  spruce  still  hung,  though 
it  was  evident  that  the  strain  might  break  it 
at  any  moment.  The  ax  could  be  seen,  buried 
in  the  wood,  but  it  was  sure  death  for  any  man 
to  go  and  attempt  to  finish  the  work  begun  by 
Gramme.  For  the  first  time  men  began  to 
realize  that  had  the  spruce  broken  while  Gould 
was  lifting  out  his  friend  both  men  would 
have  been  crushed  to  death. 

What  could  be  done?  It  was  evident  that 
a  big  haul  from  above  would  choke  the  channel 
up,  providing  that  the  piles  should  roll  down  at 
the  same  time.  It  was  known  that  there  was 
a  large  rock  midway  the  Falls  that  came  up 
perilously  near  the  surface.  If  they  caught 
on  this  rock,  the  rear  of  the  West  Branch  drive 
would  not  go  below  that  year. 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON       157 

Night  was  coming  on.  All  the  logs  that  it 
was  safe  to  pry  away  from  the  river  front  had 
been  pushed  into  the  stream.  The  great  crown 
must  somehow  be  started  and  rolled  down. 
But  would  it  choke  the  channel?  was  a  question 
asked  by  Cummings  of  Lumbert. 

"  It  may,"  replied  Lumbert,  "  but  we've  got 
to  take  that  chance,  and  try  to  shake  them  out 
before  the  haul  above  comes  down  on  us.  The 
logs  are  fast  winging  out  in  the  bend;  but 
what  can  we  do?  Can't  you  suggest  some 
thing,  Cummings?  I  won't  go  out  there  and 
cut  that  post  myself,  and  I  won't  send  a  man. 
It's  sure  death." 

"May  I  make  a  suggestion?"  said  Gould. 

"  Make  it  quick." 

"  You  notice  the  spruce  is  holding  all  it  can. 
A  little  thing  would  break  it." 

"  Yes,  that's  the  trouble.  The  damn  thing 
holds!  But  what's  yer  idea?" 

"  It  is  this.  The  fibers  are  drawn  very  tight 
on  the  bent  side  of  that  spruce.  If  we  can 
send  a  rifle  ball  and  cut  the  outer  fiber— 

Before  Gould  could  finish  Lumbert  cried: 


158        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

"  Great  God,  Cummings!  What  were  you  and 
I  thinking  of?  That'll  do  it!  Gould,  you 
are  a  brick,  a  regular  corker.  I'd  hug  you 
if  you  were  a  woman."  Then  swinging  around, 
he  called  to  little  Pratt : 

"  Bring  up  your  45-90.  I've  been  wonder 
ing  what  you've  been  carrying  that  fool  of  a 
gun  around  f  er,  now  I  know !  Hurry  up,  you 
weasel!  He  isn't  much  bigger  than  his  gun, 
but  he's  a  dead  shot.  Get  down,,  all  hands! 
There's  going  to  be  an  earthquake  when  the 
logs  start ! " 

Pratt  came  up  and  took  his  position. 

"  This  is  the  first  time  I  ever  did  log  driving 
with  a  gun,"  said  Lumbert.  "  See  here,  Pratt, 
this  is  this  infant's  idea.  This  is  what  he  wants 
you  to  do."  As  he  explained,  the  face  of  Pratt 
lighted  up,  and  the  dark  eyes  grew  brilliant. 

"Ken  ye  hit  it?"  said  Lumbert. 

A  quiet  smile  stole  over  the  face  of  the  old 
hunter  and  river  driver,  as  he  said,  "  Ye  jus' 
step  down  there,  and  watch  me!" 

The  crew  below  watched  the  little  man  raise 
the  big  gun.  There  was  a  sharp  report.  The 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON       159 

retaining  spruce  broke  short  off,  and  the  great 
pile  of  logs  took  on  instant  life.  Faster  and 
faster  they  moved,  crashing  down  the  declivity 
with  a  force  that  seemed  to  shake  the  earth. 
Thousands  of  them  pitched,  tumbled  and  rolled 
into  the  rushing  current  below.  The  crew 
watched  the  great  avalanche  of  timber  in 
silence.  They  realized  that  the  idea  of  one 
man,  he  a  stranger  and  inexperienced,  had 
accomplished  this  feat.  At  this  moment  a  cry 
from  Cummings  was  heard: 

"  The  logs  are  swinging  out  above,  and  will 
soon  be  in  the  current,  and  right  down  on  us. 
This  is  the  devil's  own  luck!  I've  been  afraid 
of  it." 

There  was  nothing  to  do  but  watch  this  new 
and  threatening  phenomenon,  which  seemed  to 
mean  disaster  and  ruin  to  the  contractor  of  the 
West  Branch  drive.  Cummings  sank  upon  a 
log.  Lumbert  stood  grim  and  still,  watching 
for  the  terrible  impact.  He  had  some  hope 
that  the  pressure  might  be  so  great  as  to  push 
the  head  over  the  Falls.  It  was  his  only  hope. 
The  front  logs  ran  out,  and  he  every  moment 


160       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

looked  to  see  them  dip  and  fall,  but  those 
behind  began  to  shingle  on  and  over,  one  above 
the  other,  piling  higher  and  higher.  Then  they 
stopped,  and  every  man  knew  that  the  West 
Branch  drive  was  hung  up. 

During  these  stirring  scenes  two  canoes  filled 
with  men  had  come  down  the  Millinocket,  and 
five  or  six  well-dressed  men  had  watched  the 
operation  from  the  opposite  shore.  They  had 
seen  the  effect  of  the  rifle  ball,  heard  the  rolling 
thunder  of  the  tumbling  timber,  and  under 
stood  the  disaster  that  had  overtaken  the  con 
tractor  of  the  Penobscot  Log  Driving  Asso 
ciation. 

Two  of  the  men  had  been  seen  to  go  below 
the  Falls  and  return.  After  talking  together 
a  short  time,  one  stepped  forward  and  shouted : 

"Is  Lumbert  there?" 

"What  there  is  left  of  me,"  he  replied 
grimly. 

"Have  you  got  any  dynamite?" 

"I  always  have  it.     Why?" 

"  It  looks  from  our  side  as  if  you  might 
lower  a  man — if  you've  got  one  that  will  go— 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        161 

over  the  logs  that  are  shingled  out  beyond  the 
Falls,  and  have  him  place  three  or  four  sticks 
of  dynamite  in  the  right  place,  and  so  possibly 
break  the  jam." 

"  The  water  would  drown  any  man  in  five 
minutes,"  replied  Lumbert. 

"Oh,  no.  We  can  see  one  place  where  the 
water  is  entirely  shut  off.  But  it's  a  mighty 
risky  thing,  for  the  front  logs  may  fall  at  any 
time,  even  if  the  jam  don't  start.  But  it's  got 
to  be  done,  and  someone  must  do  it.  There 
are  three  here  who  own  most  of  these  logs,  and 
I  am  authorized  to  offer  a  thousand  dollars  to 
anyone  who  will  go  down  under  the  face  of 
the  Falls,  place  the  dynamite,  and  lead  up  the 
wires.  If  he  don't  survive,  the  money  shall  go 
to  his  family.  You  know  who  we  are,  Lum 
bert,  and  you  must  know  that  according  to  the 
contract  you  cannot  collect  a  cent  from  the 
association  for  the  logs  that  are  hung  up.  Now 
find  the  man." 

Gould  saw  a  look  almost  of  despair  sweep 
over  the  rugged  face  of  Lumbert. 

"  I  can't  send  a  man  there.     It's  almost  sure 


162        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

death.  But  I'll  go  myself.  I  am  a  ruined 
man  if  the  drive  don't  go  through,  and  it  won't 
matter  much." 

This  touched  Gould's  heart.  "Mr.  Lum- 
bert,  I  request  the  privilege  of  trying  to  do  this 
work.  The  logs  are  piled  in  thick  at  the  Falls, 
and  seem  immovable,  and  I  don't  think  there  is 
much  chance  of  their  tumbling  down.  We'll 
cross  over  and  look  at  the  jam  from  the  other 
side.  If  the  logs  do  not  start  there  will  not  be 
much  danger  in  placing  the  dynamite.  I  had 
some  experience  in  using  it  while  at  the  Tech. 
You  can  help  me.  Don't  say  no.  Tell  them 
we  are  coming.  I  believe  everything  is  on  that 
side." 

"Yes,  yes!  but  Gould " 

"Never  mind  the  'buts'  now.  Night  is 
almost  here.  In  another  hour  or  two  we  can 
not  see."  -—, 

They  were  met  on  the  other  shore  by  three  of 
the  visitors — Strickland,  Palmer,  and  Smith. 

Smith  said,  "Where  is  your  dynamite  and 
outfit?" 

"  There  in  the  box.     We  keep  it  locked  and 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        163 

away  from  the  men,  so  they  won't  fool  with  it. 
Here's  the  key,  Gould.    You  open  the  box." 

"Who  is  that  man?"  inquired  Smith,  who 
with  the  others  had  noted  Gould. 

"If  you  will  tell  me,  I  will  give  you  twenty- 
five  dollars.  He's  a  stranger;  took  another 
man's  place.  But  he's  got  more  brains  than 
all  of  Harvard  College,  and  muscle  to  back 
'em  up.  It  was  his  idea  shooting  that  log 
down.  Greatest  idea  I  ever  heard  of;  and  he's 
the  man  that  says  he'll  go  down  and  place  the 
dynamite.  You  want  to  get  your  check  books 
out,  for  he'll  do  it  if  any  man  living  can.  Here 
comes  that  fool  of  a  Gramme.  Head  all  tied 
up.  Ten  minutes  ago  I  thought  he  was  dead. 
But  see  him  come!  He's  a  lively  corpse. 

"What  are  you  here  for,  Jim?  I  was  just 
going  to  send  by  these  men  for  a  box  for  ye." 

"I'm  not  going  to  lay  there  and  have  you 
and  Gould  take  all  the  chances.  Every  man 
you've  got  wanted  to  come  over  and  go  down 
under  the  Falls  and  place  the  dynamite;  but 
Cummings  held  on  to  them  so  that  in  case  the 
jam  is  broken  they  can  shove  in  the  logs." 


164        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

"  All  right.  You  get  the  rope.  The  infant 
has  got  the  dynamite  and  wire.  Now  come 
on." 

"Are  you  going,  Lumbert?"  exclaimed  all 
three  of  the  men  at  once. 

"  I  am  going  out  on  the  logs  with  the  men 
to  hold  the  rope  that  lets  the  man  down." 

"  And  I'm  going  with  him,"  said  Gramme, 
and  he  started. 

Gould  was  already  halfway  out.  The 
water  on  the  shore  side  had  drenched  him  to  the 
skin.  But  where  he  stood  the  water  did  not 
fly.  Lumbert  and  Gramme  soon  joined  him, 
each  drenched. 

"  Mr.  Lumbert,"  said  Gould,  "  you  stand 
on  the  shore  and  pay  out  the  wire.  Gramme 
and  I  will  do  the  rest.  You  must  not  risk  your 
life." 

"  Now,  look  here,  youngster,  do  I  look  like 
a  coward?  Do  you  think  that  I  can  stand  and 
see  two  of  the  best  men  on  earth  go  to  hell  and 
I  safe  on  the  shore  with  dry  feet?  Not  by  a 
damn  sight.  I  want  to  say  that  if  we  three  men 
come  out  of  this  alive  I'll  try  and  never  swear 


It  was  a  moment  that  tried  men's  souls  " 


again,  just  for  your  sake.  Shake  hands,  boys. 
It's  a  terrible  risk,  but  Jo  Lumbert  will  stay 
with  you  to  the  end." 

Gould  already  had  the  rope  looped  under 
his  arms.  "  I  think,"  he  said,  "  I  know  better 
than  either  of  you  where  to  place  this  dyna 
mite.  But  we  must  work  quick.  I  felt  the 
logs  jar.  Did  you?" 

"My  God,  yes!  Gould,  don't  go,  don't 
go !  Never  mind  my  loss." 

But  Gould  had  run  out  on  the  two  logs  that 
lipped  the  farthest  out.  Stepping  down  on 
one  just  below,  he  cried: 

"Lower  me,  quick! " 

From  the  shore  another  cry  was  heard: 
"Come  back,  come  back,  Lumbert!  The  logs 
are  moving!" 

But  the  two  pale-faced  men  holding  the  rope 
on  which  a  life  depended  made  no  reply. 

"  Swing  me  in,"  cried  a  voice  below. 

"All  right,  all  right.     Hold  the  rope." 

Then  silence.  It  was  a  moment  that  tried 
men's  souls.  The  roaring  waters  dinned  in  the 
ears  of  the  three  heroes,  and  the  chaos  of  tim- 


166       JAY   GOULD    HARMON 

ber  about  them  seemed  to  be  creeping,  creep 
ing,  like  huge  serpents  eager  to  devour  every 
thing  before  them. 

iThe  cold  sweat  stood  on  Lumbert's  brow, 
and  the  paleness  of  death  was  on  the  face  of 
Gramme. 

"  My  God,  Gramme,  this  is  awful.  Will  he 
never  come  up?  Don't  you  feel  the  timbers 
move? " 

"I  thought  so.  But  maybe  we  imagined 
it." 

There  was  a  cry  again  from  the  shore: 
"Come,  Lumbert,  come,  while  there  is  time! 
The  front  logs  are  sure  to  fall.  Leave  your 
men.  They  will  do  the  work." 

"  You  go  right  straight  to  hell !  Maybe 
I'll  meet  you  there  in  ten  minutes,"  said  Lum 
bert. 

Then  their  hearts  jumped  as  they  heard 
Gould  call,  "Pull  the  rope  in.  Now  haul 
up."  In  another  moment  he  stood  with  his 
two  friends  on  top  of  the  logs. 

"  Now  follow  the  wire  to  the  shore.  I  have 
three  sticks  wired.  The  shock  will  send  off 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON       167 

the    others.     The    logs    are    dipping    at    the 
front!" 

The  men  rushed  to  the  shore. 

"Get  out  of  the  way!"  said  Lumbert. 
"Climb  the  bank.  We  must  fire  before  the 
logs  fall  and  break  the  wire." 

There  were  heard  two  heavy  smothered  re 
ports.  The  overhanging  logs  were  seen  to  lift 
up  bodily  and  for  a  moment  to  hang  in  the  air 
as  the  released  waters  shot  out  like  a  fluid  shaft 
from  under  them.  Then  the  mass  dipped  and 
fell  into  the  raging  torrent  below. 

Soon  the  entire  body  of  timber  began  to 
move,  at  first  slowly,  gaining  force  and  velocity 
from  the  great  pressure  behind,  and  went  thun 
dering  over  the  Falls  and  down  the  cataract. 
It  was  a  scene  of  wild  and  terrific  grandeur. 
Gould  felt  as  though  his  heart  would  leap 
from  his  mouth  as  he  heard  the  boom — boom— 
boom  of  the  huge  timbers  as  they  went  plung 
ing  down  that  rock-shod,  foaming  channel. 

He  could  hear  the  ominous  roar  of  the 
wild  waters,  and  the  triumphant  shouts  of  the 
men  as  they  saw  this  last  obstacle  overcome. 


168       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

Late  that  night  the  last  log  on  the  drive  had 
passed  over,  and  in  ten  days  more  all  were 
safely  locked  within  the  Argyle  boom,  and  the 
West  Branch  drive  had  another  hero  whose 
name  had  gone  wherever  in  the  old  State  of 
Maine  men  took  their  lives  in  their  hands  that 
they  might  do  service  for  other  men. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

IN  the  run  from  the  Falls  to  the  boom  there 
was  one  incident  that  brought  out  the 
character  and  capabilities  of  Gould  in 
a  new  light. 

At  Passadumkeag  the  "  old  man  "  had  hired 
two  strangers  to  take  the  places  of  two  of  the 
crew  who  were  on  the  sick  list.  The  names 
they  gave  were  Jim  Sykes  and  Bill  Lunt. 
They  were  rather  tough-looking  subjects,  evi 
dently  from  the  city. 

They  were  powerfully  built  men,  and  said 
they  had  had  experience  as  river  drivers ;  but  it 
was  soon  made  evident  that  they  proposed  to 
shirk  whenever  they  could  and  avoid  taking 
risks  on  the  running  logs. 

When  logs  had  been  driven  by  the  impact 
behind  into  the  marshes  and  had  to  be  carried 
bodily  with  peavies  these  men  were  always 
found  busy  doing  something  else,  This  made 

169 


170       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

the  old  crew  grumble.  It  wasn't  their  idea  of 
a  "fair  shake."  Shirking  is  the  one  great 
offense  on  the  drive,  and  these  men  were  plainly 
shirking. 

And  then,  too,  a  great  many  small  articles 
had  been  missed  from  the  kits  of  the  river 
drivers.  They  had  bought  a  few  things  at  the 
towns  along  the  river,  such  as  stockings,  shirts, 
brushes,  combs,  etc.,  and  many  of  them  had 
disappeared.  Nothing  of  this  kind  had  oc 
curred  before  these  men  joined  them,  and  there 
was  a  growing  suspicion  that  the  two  strangers 
were  "  hard  tickets  "  from  the  city  slums. 

Gould  had  been  made  boss  of  the  center, 
and  was  also  keeper  of  the  time  and  general 
accountant  of  the  drive,  much  to  the  relief  of 
the  "old  man."  On  several  occasions  he  had 
found  serious  errors  in  the  extension  of  the 
supply  bills,  which  saved  Lumbert  consider 
able  money.  His  trust  in  his  "  infant  "  had 
grown  so  great  that  all  the  accounts  were 
turned  over  to  him,  and  he  was  consulted 
constantly. 

"  You  are  my  balm  of  Gilead,  young  man," 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON       171 

he  would  say  to  Gould.  "  If  I  was  a  rich 
man  I  would  adopt  you  and  make  you  my  heir. 
But  I  am  poorer  than  a  Greenfield  farm,  where 
you  can't  raise  an  umbrella." 

One  day  as  the  drive  was  passing  Greenbush 
the  two  strangers  shirked  in  a  manner  not  to 
be  endured,  and,  to  add  to  the  trouble,  Dorsey, 
one  of  the  best  men  on  the  drive,  who  had  not 
seriously  suffered  from  being  knocked  into  the 
river,  had  found  some  rum  somewhere  and  was 
drunk  and  ugly. 

The  logs  crowded  the  left  shore,  lodged,  and 
ran  up  on  the  banks  in  a  most  aggravating 
manner.  In  some  places  they  had  shingled 
and  piled  up  considerably.  Nothing  would 
have  been  thought  of  this  if  they  were  not  so 
near  the  end  of  the  work.  The  men  were 
anxious  to  get  to  the  boom,  and  everything 
that  retarded  their  progress  made  them  nervous 
and  excited.  Shirking  at  this  time  was  mad 
dening  to  them. 

Word  had  been  sent  to  Lumbert  by  Gramme, 
through  little  Fornier,  that  the  men  would 
leave  the  drive  "in  a  bunch"  if  the  two  "bum 


172       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

loafers"  didn't  do  their  part  of  the  work. 

'You  had  better  come  up,"   Gramme   sent 

word,  "  or  we  shan't  pass  Greenbush  to-night." 

"I  say,  Gould,  I've  got  a  new  job  for  ye. 
You've  done  everything  but  fight.  I  begin  to 
think  you  haven't  any  temper.  I  want  you  to 
go  up  to  the  left  shore  and  straighten  out  mat 
ters,  and  make  those  two  long-legged  cantan 
kerous  cusses  work,  or  discharge  them.  They 
say  Dorsey  is  drunk.  He's  meaner  than  pizen 
when  he's  drunk.  Gramme  is  too  good-natured 
a  fellow  for  a  boss.  You  go  up  and  send  the 
logs  along,  and  knock  those  skunks — well, 
knock  some  sense  into  'em.  I  came  mighty 
near  slipping  up  that  time." 

When  Gould  reached  the  rear  he  found 
the  men  growling,  and  standing  round  doing 
nothing. 

"  What's  the  matter  here? "  he  said  to  Pratt. 
"  Why  don't  you  work?  I've  come  up  to  help 
you." 

:'  The  men  won't  do  a  thing  with  Sykes  and 
Lunt  sitting  under  the  bushes  on  the  shore, 
smoking.  Dorsey  is  drunk.  He's  made  the 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        173 

cook  mad  because  he's  knocked  little  Frenchy 
down,  and  Eastman  won't  do  a  thing  until 
Dorsey  is  run  off.  Dorsey  has  got  to  fight 
someone,  and  get  a  licking,  before  he  will  be 
good  for  anything." 

Gould  saw  that  all  the  trouble  lay  in  the 
loafing  of  the  two  strangers,  and  Dorsey's 
trouble  with  the  cook  shut  off  the  prospect  of 
their  getting  meals ;  and  a  crew  of  hungry  men 
is  like  a  locomotive  without  fuel — it  will  come 
to  a  standstill. 

"  Come  with  me,  Gramme,"  he  said.  "  We'll 
settle  this."  There  was  determination  in  his 
voice,  and  fire  in  his  eye.  He  moved  to\wards 
the  two  men,  who  were  leisurely  smoking  their 
pipes. 

"  Lunt,  Sykes,  put  away  those  pipes  and  go 
to  work,  at  once.  These  are  jthe  orders  of  Mr. 
Lumbert,  and  he  has  told  me  to  see  that  they 
are  carried  out.  Either  do  this  or  consider 
yourselves  discharged,  and  half  your  pay  cut 
off." 

The  swarthy  Sykes  slowly  took  his  pipe 
from  his  mouth  and  said  sneeringly,  "  Maybe 


174       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

we  shall.  Maybe  you're  the  whole  West 
Branch  drive,  and  maybe  you  know  who 
robbed  the  bank  at  Greensburg.  Eh,  Bill?" 
he  said,  nudging  his  companion. 

Before  he  had  time  to  sneer  again  strong 
hands  had  seized  him  by  the  throat  and  nape  of 
the  neck,  raised  him,  and  hurled  him  sprawling 
among  the  rocks  and  logs  on  the  shore.  He 
was  stunned  by  the  fall. 

Lunt  had  jumped  up,  and  was  rushing  at 
Gould  with  his  fists  clenched  and  one  arm 
upraised.  But  Gould  turned  and  met  him 
with  a  blow  on  the  point  of  his  chin,  and  he  fell 
like  a  stricken  ox. 

Sykes  had  partly  recovered  and  was  looking 
around  for  a  stone,  when  Gramme  jumped  on 
him,  and  crowding  him  between  the  logs,  held 
him. 

Gould  stepped  back  to  where  Lunt  lay, 
and  seeing  that  the  man  was  conscious  said  to 
him,  "Will  you  go  to  work  now,  or  be  dis 
charged?  You  have  loafed  and  shirked  all  you 
are  going  to.  If  it  is  fighting  you  are  after, 
you  can  have  all  you  want." 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        175 

Lunt  looked  about  stupidly.  Finally  he 
said,  "  Help  me  onto  my  feet." 

Gould  bent  over  to  help  the  man  arise 
when  he  heard  Gramme  call  out,  "  Look  out  for 
Dorsey.  He's  coming  at  you  with  a  peavy." 

He  turned  just  in  time  to  avoid  a  lunge  from 
Dorsey,  who,  drunk  and  ugly,  had  come  around 
in  time  to  see  part  of  the  fight,  and,  Irish  like, 
seeing  one  man  down  thought  that  the  top  man 
ought  to  be  killed. 

Dorsey,  missing  his  first  victim,  fell  over 
Lunt,  which  maddened  him  all  the  more,  and  in 
his  fury  he  became  mixed,  and  swinging 
around  jumped  on  Lunt  and  began  to  pound 
him,  thinking  he  was  Gould. 

In  another  instant  he  was  sprawling  among 
the  rocks  and  logs,  flung  down  by  the  same  soft 
strong  hand  that  had  soothed  the  bruised  arm 
of  Lumbert. 

Dorsey  was  helped  to  his  feet  by  Gramme. 
He  had  been  considerably  bruised  but  had  been 
sobered.  He  broke  out  as  he  rubbed  his 
head : 

"  Phwat  in  the  divil  has  happened?    Did  I 


176       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

have  an  illegant  fight,  and  who  was  licked?  I 
found  meself  hammering  a  spruce  log.  Jim, 
did  ye  have  a  hand  in  it?  Faith,  I  think  I'm 
licked,  but  I  hit  some  spalpeen  and  now  I  am 
content.  Where's  me  peavy?  I  can  work 
now." 

Gould,  addressing  the  two  men,  rather 
sternly  said:  ;'  If  you  have  got  enough,  go 
to  work,  and  let  this  be  the  end  of  your 
loafing." 

The  men  said  nothing,  but  sullenly  rose  and, 
one  taking  a  pole  and  another  a  peavy,  went  to 
rolling  in  the  logs.  They  worked  well  until 
the  logs  were  safely  boomed.  But  there  was 
no  mistaking  that  they  meditated  revenge,  and 
Gould  was  warned  by  all  the  crew  to  keep  his 
eye  out. 

After  the  men  went  to  work  Gould  was 
hailed  by  a  voice  from  the  shore  that  he 
recognized. 

"Well,  that  was  just  beautiful.  I  must 
come  down  and  congratulate  you.  You  fight 
just  as  fine  as  you  fiddle.  That  chin  pointer 
you  gave  him  was  a  little  the  slickest  pinking  I 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON       177 

ever  saw.  I  thought  I  was  pretty  good  my 
self,  Jay,  my  boy,  but  that  clip  would  have 
made  John  L.  Sullivan  green  with  envy." 

Gould  saw  Link  Lincoln  advancing,  his 
face  lighted  with  a  broad  good-natured  smile, 
and  his  ready  palm  extended. 

While  the  acquaintance  of  Lincoln  with 
Gould  rested  only  upon  their  meeting  at  the 
Major's  the  evening  he  had  played,  yet  he 
shook  hands  with  all  the  cordiality  of  an  old 
acquaintance. 

"I  say,  old  fellow,"  said  Lincoln,  "where 
can  I  see  you  for  a  few  moments?  I've  got 
some  great  things  to  tell  you." 

Gould  could  not  help  thinking  how  some 
of  his  aristocratic  acquaintances  would  have 
been  shocked  at  what  they  would  have  termed 
this  "beastly  familiarity,  don't  you  know?" 
But  he  was  really  glad  to  see  the  fellow,  whose 
real  honesty  and  kindness  of  heart  were  very 
evident.  So  he  said: 

"As  soon  as  the  logs  pass  that  point  that 
makes  out  into  the  river  they  will  run  them 
selves  to  the  boom,  Mr.  Lumbert  says.  Come 


178       JAY   GOULD    HARMON 

to  the  wangan  to  dinner  if  you  feel  inclined. 
How  are  the  Major  and  family?" 

"Why  it  would  take  me  two  hours  to  tell 
you,"  replied  the  eager  Lincoln.  '  You  know 
John  Crosby  tried  to  get  that  violin  away  from 
Lois?" 

"  No,  I  didn't  know.     How  about  it  ? " 

"  Well,  it  is  too  long.  The  men  are  looking 
back.  I've  got  a  little  business  at  Costigan. 
As  soon  as  I  attend  to  it  I'll  come  to  the  wan 
gan  to  dinner,"  and  he  was  off. 

The  logs  were  soon  shoved  out  of  the  cove, 
and  were  on  their  final  run  to  the  boom.  All 
the  men  were  in  good  spirits,  save  Lunt  and 
Sykes.  They  remained  wrapped  in  gloomy 
thought. 

Lincoln  was  on  hand  at  dinner,  and  being 
well  acquainted  with  Lumbert  entertained  them 
all  with  his  yarns  and  jokes.  He  was  a  fav 
orite  with  everyone,  and  a  very  successful 
salesman. 

Lumbert  had  been  told  of  the  fight  by 
Frenchy,  who  had  come  running  down  to  the 
"  old  man  "  greatly  excited. 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        179 

"  Mees  Lumbert.  Ze  man  wiz  ze  soft  hand 
he  jess  fight  some — so,"  and  Frenchy  struck 
out  into  the  air  with  his  right  hand.  "  He  ver' 
mad,  mos'  awful  mad.  He  kill  tree  men  two 
clip — bing — bing!  Nevar  see  him  lak  dat 
'fo'.  Ze  two  lang-legged  what  you  call  'em- 
jail — jail — jail  crow?" 

"Jailbird,  Henri." 

"  Sykes,  Lunt,  he  no  wok.  Gould,  he  say 
you  go  wok  some  queek.  Toute  suite.  Oui. 
Ze  birds  zay  look  up  lak  bully,  and  zay  spik 
out  some  vey  bad  ting.  Mon  Dieu !  Ze  man 
wiz  ze  soft  hand  he  grab  crow  bird  an'  he  mak 
him  flat  down  mit  dare  log  go  slam.  By  Gar! 
dat  was  so  queek,  I  don't  see  anything.  Ze  other 
jail  owl  he  rise  up  ver'  mad,  lift  han'  like  dat," 
and  Frenchy's  arm  was  in  the  air  again.  "I 
see  heem  myself,  and  Henri  says,  he  gone  now 
for  sure.  I  feel  ver'  seek.  By  gar!  dat  man 
he  jess  shoot  out  so — and  brak  chin  mid  dat  fist 
off.  Ze  man  he  lay  right  down  ver'  still.  Zen 
Henri  he  come  to  tell  you  dat.  Oui,  oui." 

Gramme  had  come  down  and  given  a  suc 
cinct  account  of  the  affair  to  Lumbert,  who 


180        JAY    GOULD    HARMOX 

roared  with  laughter.  As  soon  as  he  could 
get  his  breath  he  said,  "  Well,  I  am  glad  to  find 
that  there's  fight  in  that  fellow.  Now  I  know 
he's  human.  He  was  so  darned  immaculate  I 
began  to  think  he  wasn't  of  this  earth,  earthy. 
A  man  has  got  to  have  some  faults  or  he  won't 
suit  everybody." 

As  soon  as  the  dinner  was  over  Lincoln  and 
Gould  strolled  back  to  the  road  that  ran  near 
the  river  and  Lincoln  told  the  story  of  what  had 
occurred  at  Falling  Water  during  the  last  two 
weeks.  He  talked  very  rapidly,  Gould  in 
terrupting  him  but  twice  during  the  exciting 
narrative. 

"  Why,  you  see,"  Lincoln  began,  "  Sapient 
came  back  after  the  excitement — caused  by  the 
robbery  of  the  bank  at  Greensburg — had  died 
down.  There  were  some  who  said  they  guessed 
he  knew  more  about  it  than  he  would  like  to 
tell.  He  and  the  Hon.  John  got  mighty 
thick.  Sapient  left  the  hotel  and  went  to 
Crosby's ;  had  the  best  room  in  the  house. 

"One  day  Crosby  brought  him  to  Squire 
Gray's  store  and  introduced  him  to  Lige  Fes- 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        181 

senden,  Jake  Cornish,  Eph  Royal  the  old  ped 
dler,  who  is  supposed  to  have  considerable 
money,  Zeke  Lansil  the  station  agent,  John 
Gary  who  keeps  the  public  house,  and  a  lot  of 
other  fellows  who  were  loafing  around  the 
Squire's  place. 

Sapient  began  to  tell  about  a  wonderful  oil 
well  he  had  in  California,  in  Calaveras  County. 
He  said  that  he  and  John  Crosby  and  some 
others  owned  a  controlling  part  in  it. 

"'Why,'  he  said,  '  Mr.  Crosby  here  has 
bought  sixty  thousand  shares,  and,  gentlemen, 
you  are  to  have  a  millionaire  in  your  midst  be 
fore  two  years,  right  here  in  your  neighbor,  the 
Hon.  John  Crosby.' 

"  Old  John  swelled  up  like  a  toad  and  looked 
as  pompous  as  an  emperor.  I  was  there  my 
self  and  heard  it  all. 

"  '  Xow,'  Sapient  went  on,  '  your  neighbor, 
Mr.  Crosby,  in  the  goodness  of  his  heart  wants 
all  his  old  friends  to  share  in  his  prosperity/ 

"'Jess  so,  jess  so,'  broke  in  old  John  im 
pressively. 

" '  So  I've  come  up  to  offer  you  a  chance  to 


182       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

get  in  on  the  ground  floor  of  this  great  enter 
prise.  The  par  value  to-day  is  ten  cents  a 
share.  Now  let  me  tell  you  about  the  property,' 

"And  he  went  on  as  only  a  promoter  can,  to 
bewilder  and  fascinate  his  credulous  listeners 
with  visions  of  sudden  wealth.  When  he  had 
finished,  he  took  out  some  papers  gotten  up  on 
purpose  to  attract  and  give  a  bona  fide  look  to 
everything  he  said. 

'  Now,  gentlemen,  I  am  ready  to  take  your 
subscriptions,  but  please  remember  that  the 
price  is  strictly  confidential.  I  have  sold  to 
some  of  the  wealthy  men  in  New  York  and 
Boston  this  same  stock  for  as  much  as  fifty 
cents  a  share.' 

"Lige,  he  was  right  on  his  feet.  'I've  got 
a  little  money  down  in  the  savings  bank.  I 
can't  jest  tell  how  much,  but  I'll  take  it  out 
and  buy  some  of  this  stock;  and  neighbor 
Crosby,  I  want  to  thank  you  for  giving  me  this 
chance.  You  are  jest  heaping  coals  of  fire  on 
my  head,  and  I  ask  your  pardon  for  what  I 
said  to  you  a  few  weeks  ago,  when  I  was  Lige 
the  First.' 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON       183 

'  Well,  sign  for  one  thousand  shares,  Lige,' 
said  Crosby,  '  and  it  will  be  all  right.' 

"About  that  time  the  Squire  came  to  the 
door  of  the  post  office  and  called  to  Lige.  He 
drew  him  into  the  office  and  said : 

"  Elijah,  don't  sign  for  any  of  that  stock 
to-day.  I  don't  quite  like  the  looks  of  things. 
This  man  says  they  have  an  office  in  New  York. 
Mr.  Gould  comes  from  there,  and  he  may 
know  if  there  is  such  a  concern.  You  wait 
until  he  gets  back.' 

'  Why,  John  Crosby  has  bought  it,'  said 
Lige,  'and  if  I  wait  for  that  man  Gould  to 
get  back,  it  will  be  all  gone.' 

"'Well,  Elijah,  you  wait.  You  used  to 
believe  in  me  and  seek  my  advice.  Hadn't  you 
better  take  it  now  ? ' 

" '  Yes,  Squire,  I'll  wait.  I  never  missed  it 
when  I  took  your  advice.' 

"  When  Lige  went  back  to  the  store  Sapient 
had  the  name  of  every  man  for  quite  a  number 
of  shares,  and  the  money  was  to  be  paid  in  a 
few  days.  Well,  that  same  day  I  saw  the  men 
Sykes  and  Hunt,  that  you  had  trouble  with, 


184       JAY   GOULD    HARMON 

talking  with  Sapient  on  the  porch  of  the 
hotel. 

"  The  Squire  did  everything  he  could  to  delay 
the  payment  of  the  money,  but  for  the  first 
time  some  of  the  neighbors  who  thought  they 
knew  better  than  he  had  bought  the  stock  and 
paid  the  money.  Jake  Cornish,  John  Gary, 
and  the  station  agent  are  strutting  around  town 
thinking  they  are  millionaires  in  embryo. 

"Well,  here's  another  chapter  of  the  story. 
Sapient  had  been  at  John  Crosby's  but  a  few 
days  when  he  began  to  inflict  himself  upon 
Lois.  Now,  you  may  not  know  it,  but  Lois  is 
a  high  stepper  and  as  proud  as  a  French 
countess ;  in  fact,  she  is  half  French  and  of  the 
highest  caste,  a  pure  de  Neumoir." 

"  A  de  Neumoir,"  said  Gould  in  a  surprised 
voice,  "  are  you  sure?  " 

"  Perfectly,"  replied  Lincoln.  "  But  let  me 
go  on.  Lois  bore  it,  for  the  sake  of  her  aunt 
and  little  Joey.  But  one  night  when  I  was 
calling  on  Maddie,"  and  Lincoln's  voice  grew 
confidential  as  he  said,  "  Perhaps  you  know- 
well,  the  fact  is,  Mr.  Gould,  I  guess  I'm  in 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        185 

love  with  Maddie  and  I  ain't  ashamed  to  say 
so,  for  she  is  the  dearest  and  sweetest  girl  I  ever 
met.  But  never  mind  that.  I  stayed  pretty 
late,  and  was  about  to  start  away,  when  we 
heard  someone  run  along  the  porch,  and  then 
Lois  crying  '  father — father ! ' 

"The  Major  sprang  to  the  door  and  Lois 
fell  in  his  arms  in  a  dead  faint. 

"  It  was  some  time  before  she  was  restored. 
Finally  she  opened  her  eyes,  saying,  'Am  I 
safe?' 

" '  What  is  it,  my  child,  what  has  happened? ' 

"  '  Oh,  that  man,  that  wicked  man? ' 

"  '  What  man? '  said  the  Major,  his  face  tak 
ing  on  the  strange  gray  color  it  has  when  he  is 
excited. 

"  I  thought  it  was  time  for  me  to  withdraw, 
but  as  near  as  I  could  gather  this  is  what 
occurred : 

"  John  Crosby  and  his  wife  and  little  Joey 
were  attending  some  social  function  in  Greens- 
burg,  leaving  Lois  in  the  house  alone.  It  was 
understood  that  Sapient  was  to  be  at  the 
function  too.  But  he  came  to  the  house  while 


Lois  was  alone  and  offered  her  some  indignity. 
She  fled  from  the  house,  and  he  followed  her  to 
the  bridge,  but  he  did  not  dare  to  go  further. 

"  The  next  day  the  Major  took  a  green-hide, 
went  down  to  his  brother's,  walked  into  the 
house,  seized  Sapient,  flung  him  on  the  floor 
and  cowhided  him  until  he  fainted,  and  that 
in  the  presence  of  old  John,  who  knew  too 
much  to  interfere." 

"Grand,  grand!"  cried  Gould,  "Major 
Crosby  is  a  hero,  and  if  I  ever  meet  that  Sap 
ient  I'll  not  spare  him.  The  dog! " 

Lincoln  was  surprised  at  the  feeling  ex 
hibited  by  Gould.  But  he  continued : 

"  There's  another  thing  I  haven't  told  you. 
About  a  week  before  this  happened,  old  John, 
with  Sapient,  came  to  the  Major's  house  and 
said  they  would  like  to  see  the  violin. 

" '  It  is  sold,'  said  Madeline,  who  happened 
to  be  alone. 

" '  Well,  Mr.  Sapient  plays  and  would  like 
to  try  it,'  said  Crosby. 

"Madeline  went  into  the  room  occupied  by 
you  and  brought  it  out.  Sapient  took  it  out 


JAY   GOULD   HARMON       187 

and  played  a  little,  and  said  something  to  old 
John  that  Madeline  did  not  understand. 

"  Finally  her  uncle  said, '  I  bought  this  violin 
of  Lois  for  twenty-five  dollars,  over  a  year  ago, 
and  the  price  was  to  apply  on  the  interest 
account,  but  as  that  has  been  paid  I  will  leave 
the  twenty-five  dollars  and  take  the  violin  home 
with  me.' 

"  Maddie  caught  on  to  what  her  uncle  meant 
to  do  before  he  had  half  finished.  Seizing  the 
violin  from  the  hands  of  Sapient  she  fled  with 
it  through  the  kitchen  and  out  to  the  garden, 
where  her  father  was  working. 

"  The  two  men  did  not  follow  her.  But  that 
night  the  violin  was  sent  to  the  Squire's  for  safe 
keeping. 

"  That  same  night  Lois  came  home  bringing 
little  Joey.  Somehow  the  report  got  out  that 
you  had  been  drowned  or  blown  up  at  Grand 
Falls.  The  head  of  the  drive  had  found  that 
funny  hat  of  yours  in  the  river,  and  the  report 
went  around  that  you  were  dead.  I  had  run 
over  to  the  house  and  was  talking  with  Maddie 
when  the  Major  came  in,  his  face  as  white  as 


188       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

a  sheet,  and  sank  into  a  chair  saying:  '.They 
say  Gould  has  been  drowned.  They  have 
found  his  hat  in  the  river.'  The  Major  broke 
down  and  sobbed  like  a  child. 

"I  was  called  to  myself  by  hearing  Mrs. 
Crosby  say,  'Lois,  Lois,  my  child  1  what  is  the 
matter?  Don't  look  that  way/ 

"  I  turned  and  looked  at  the  girl.  Those 
beautiful  eyes  of  hers  had  a  fixed  stare  of 
agony  and  she  was  as  white  as  marble.  She 
did  not  seem  to  see  anything,  but  fell  into  her 
mother's  arms  crying,  'Mother!  mother!  he's 
dead — dead — dead/ 

'You  see,  Mr.  Gould,  she's  one  of  those 
proud  creatures  that  thinks  everything  of  her 
friends;  and  she  knows  that  you  saved  the 
place,  and  proved  to  be  the  best  friend  they 
ever  had. 

"Well,  the  next  day  the  papers  came  out 
and  contradicted  the  report,  and  gave  a  splen 
did  account  of  what  you  did  at  the  Falls.  The 
story  has  gone  all  over  the  State  and  the  New 
York  and  Boston  papers  have  taken  it  up. 
The  town  is  wild  over  it,  and  the  people  claim 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        189 

you  as  their  own,  and  when  you  go  hack  there 
they  will  decorate  you. 

"  I  guess  that's  all  this  time.  Do  you  smoke, 
Mr.  Gould?" 

'Yes,  sometimes,  thank  you."  And  he 
took  the  proffered  ci/^ar. 

"  I'm  mighty  glad  you've  got  one  '  had 
habit'  as  some  people  call  it.  When  do  you 
expect  to  go  back  home?"  said  the  ingenuous 
Lincoln,  as  he  shook  hands  with  Gould. 

"  ,The  first  of  the  week,  I  think  now."  And 
they  parted,  one  to  his  active  business  as  a  sales 
man,  and  the  other  to  think  over  the  strange 
story  he  had  heard,  and  the  meaning  of  those 
words  uttered  by  Lois  Crosby,  "Mother, 
mother!  he's  dead — dead — dead!" 


CHAPTER  IX 

JAY  GOULD  was  on  his  way — where? 
"  Home  "  Link  Lincoln  had  said.  But 
had  he  a  home?  Certainly  Falling 
Water  held  for  him  something  that  made 
him  almost  eager  to  see  it  again.  He  called 
up  the  wan  face  of  his  friend,  the  Major, 
who  gave  everything  and  expected  nothing, 
out  of  whose  eyes  there  shone  an  affection  and 
trust  he  had  never  seen  in  those  of  any  other 
man,  unless  it  was  that  behind  the  cold,  steely 
gleam  of  Lionel  Sharpe's.  He  thought  of  the 
sterling  qualities  of  the  good  old  Squire,  strong 
in  his  simple  uprightness  and  kindly  purpose 
of  heart ;  of  that  rough  diamond,  Lige  Fessen- 
den,  whose  homely  honesty  and  power  of  intro 
spection  had  so  interested  him ;  of  the  troubled 
and  factious  John  Crosby  trying  to  stem  the 
current  of  nature  only  to  be  made  wretched. 
And  then  he  could  see  the  bright  figure  of  little 

190 


Madeline  moving  about  the  house,  with  madri 
gals  always  on  her  lips;  the  wearied  but  beau 
tiful  mother,  gracious  and  grateful,  a  lady  by 
nature  and  birth,  giving  to  her  rude  home 
something  of  elegance,  a  quality  that  made  one 
forget  that  it  was  not  a  home  of  wealth. 

And  then  another  face,  another  voice — Oh, 
he  must  not  think  of  it !  Were  not  all  women 
deceivers  by  nature?  Had  he  not  suffered 
from  their  pride  and  deceit?  He  would  tear 
them  from  his  heart.  And  yet  he  could  hear  a 
voice  tender  and  sweet  saying,  "Are  you  sick, 
sir?  Can  I  help  you? "  And  "  Oh,  uncle,  uncle! 
You  have  killed  him!  You  have  killed  him!" 

"  This  is  puerility,"  he  thought  to  himself. 
"  What  would  Sharpe  say  if  he  thought  I  was 
weak  enough  to  ever  give  a  thought  to  any 
woman?  But  they  have  proved  good  friends, 
and  for  the  Major's  sake  I  should  show  my 
respect  and  gratitude.  This  is  but  a  duty  that 
I  owe  the  family." 

In  his  pocket  he  had  one  thousand  and  fifty 
dollars,  the  first  money  he  had  ever  earned,  and 
it  seemed  to  him  a  vast  sum ;  although  the  time 


192        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

had  been,  and  but  a  few  months  ago,  when  he 
would  have  considered  it  a  trifle,  for  however 
hard  and  unaffectionate  his  father  had  been 
he  had  been  liberal  in  his  allowance  to  his  sons. 

But  how  different  seemed  this  money.  It 
was  a  precious  thing,  and  he  had  fairly  earned 
it.  The  thousand  dollars  given  by  the  Penob- 
scot  Lumber  Company  he  had  taken  in  two 
checks.  One  he  had  cashed,  and  one  he  had 
endorsed  to  James  Gramme;  but  he  had  not 
made  known  his  intention  to  anyone.  He 
firmly  refused  to  accept  the  two  hundred  dol 
lars  bonus  from  Lumbert,  but  did  accept  fifty 
dollars  for  wages.  There  were  tears  in  Lum- 
bert's  eyes  when  they  parted  at  Bangor.  But 
it  was  understood  that  Lumbert  was  to  come 
to  Falling  Water  before  long  and  arrange  for 
the  Fall  campaign. 

''They'll  all  be  after  ye,  young  man,  but 
don't  sell  yourself  until  you  see  old  Jo, 
will  ye?" 

"  I  promise  you,  Mr.  Lumbert."  And  they 
parted. 

How  little  society  understood  or  appreciated 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON       193 

Jo  Lumbert.  It  could  not  think  it  possible 
that  under  that  rough  exterior  were  qualities 
that  might  become  a  prince;  kindness  of  heart, 
courage,  fidelity,  honor,  a  power  to  do,  a  will 
to  dare,  to  fight  his  way  through  every  obstacle 
along  the  pathway  of  life,  and  when  the 
emergency  came,  with  an  unquailing  eye  to  look 
death  in  the  face,  even  to  defy  it  with  an  oath, 
rather  than  to  flinch  one  moment  from  what  he 
considered  his  duty  towards  a  fellow  man. 

Gould  had  fitted  himself  out  with  clothing 
adapted  to  his  new  life.  He  bought  a  few 
books  for  the  Major,  a  music  cabinet  for  Mrs. 
Crosby,  and  two  or  three  songs  for  Madeline. 
For  Lois,  nothing.  He  had  thought  of  her, 
but  their  acquaintance  had  been  so  slight  that 
his  fine  instincts  told  him  there  was  not  suffi 
cient  ground  for  an  act  that  might  smack  a 
little  of  familiarity. 

These  presents  had  gone  ahead,  with  nothing 
to  identify  the  giver.  In  the  cabinet  he  had 
placed  several  violin  and  piano  duets  that  he 
had  found  in  the  music  store  where  he  had 
bought  the  cabinet.  It  occurred  to  him  that 


194       JAY   GOULD    HARMON 

Mrs.  Crosby — whom  he  had  discovered  to  be  a 
musician — might  enjoy  playing  them. 

He  left  the  train  at  Five  Islands,  preferring 
to  reach  Falling  Water  without  the  people 
knowing  it.  He  remembered  what  Lincoln 
had  said  about  the  town  being  wild  over  what 
had  been  in  the  papers  about  him,  and  he 
feared  a  demonstration. 

He  crossed  the  bridge  and  saw  on  the  right 
the  blacksmith  shop  of  Lige  Fessenden,  from 
which  he  heard  loud  voices  issuing. 

"  I  tell  you,  Lige," — it  was  the  voice  of  John 
Crosby — "that,  brother  or  no  brother,  I  am 
going  to  have  him  arrested  for  assault  and  bat 
tery.  He  came  into  my  house  and  assaulted 
my  guest  without  provocation,  and  he's  been 
under  the  doctor's  care  ever  since.  Daniel's 
the  most  unnatural  brother  a  man  ever  had, 
and  I'm  going  to  teach  him  a  lesson." 

"Well,  Sapient  insulted  Lois,  and  if  it  had 
been  your  child  I  guess  you  would  have  re 
sented  it.  If  it  had  been  me  I  would  have 
skinned  him  alive,"  said  Lige. 

"  Oh,  maybe  he  tried  to  kiss  her.     If  she'd 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        195 

had  sense  enough  to  manage  right  she  might 
have  caught  him.  He'd  been  a  good  catch  for 
a  poor  country  girl  without  much  of  a  family 
behind  her.  I  rather  guess  he  was  pleased  with 
her,  and  she  is  fine  looking." 

"Now,  look  here,  John  Crosby,  I  guess 
you'll  never  get  the  meanness  out  of  you.  Do 
you  mean  to  tell  me  that  you  think  that  Sap 
ient,  with  a  face  like  a  gallows  bird,  is  good 
enough  for  our  Lois?" 

What  more  he  would  have  said  was  inter 
rupted  by  his  seeing  Gould  come  out  of  the 
bridge. 

"  There's  the  very  man  I  want  to  see.  He'll 
tell  me  how  to  straighten  this  axle  for  you." 

"  I  don't  want  to  be  under  obligation  to  that 
man." 

"You've  got  to  be  if  you  want  this  fixed, 
for  I  can't  do  it.  I  say,  Gould,  will  you 
come  here  a  moment?  I'm  mighty  glad  to  see 
you,"  said  Lige,  extending  his  rough  hand. 
"  The  whole  town  is  waiting  for  you.  Whoa! 
Whoa  there,"  he  called  out  to  Crosby's  young 
horse,  which  was  secured  to  the  shop,  and  was 


196        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

stepping  around  nervously.  "  Don't  you  think 
you'd  better  take  Joey  out  of  the  wagon, 
Crosby?  That  colt  of  yours  is  prancing 
round  considerable.  If  he  should  get  away  he 
might  throw  the  boy  out." 

"I'm  right  here,"  replied  Crosby.  " Joey 
is  better  off  in  the  wagon  than  he  would  be 
in  the  shop." 

Gould  glanced  at  the  child,  and  saw  the 
sweet  pleading  face,  the  sad  plaintive  eyes. 
The  child  knew  him,  and  his  face  brightened 
up  as  he  put  out  his  little  hands,  saying,  "  Joey 
know  oo.  Tiss  Joey  aden." 

There  was  something  about  the  child  that 
appealed  to  him.  He  placed  his  arm  around 
the  little  body  and  felt  the  boy's  arms  around 
his  neck.  The  kiss  was  mutual. 

"  Look  here,  you  man  Gould,"  said  the 
rough  voice  of  Crosby,  "that  boy  of  mine  is 
not  common  property." 

Lige  jumped  in  front  of  him.  "  See  here, 
John,  if  I  hadn't  made  up  my  mind  that  the 
devil  is  using  you  to  sarcumvent  my  soul  I'd 
fling  ye  into  the  river.  It's  pretty  hard  work 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON       197 

not  to  make  '  I  dare,  wait  upon  I  would.'  Sit 
down  and  be  human."  John  sat  down,  for  he 
knew  his  man. 

Gould  had  pretended  to  hear  nothing. 
The  child  was  patting  his  face  and  saying, 
"Oo  play  for  Joey  to-night?  Cousin  Lois 
says  angels  'round  when  oo  play.  Joey  tink 
so  too.  Lois  leave  Joey,  but  Joey  come  to  see 
her  to-night." 

"One  moment,  Mr.  Gould,"  said  Lige. 
"  Can't  that  axle  be  straightened  on  the  reaper 
without  taking  the  machine  apart?" 

Gould  stepped  into  the  shop,  bowed 
slightly  to  Mr.  Crosby,  then  began  to  look  over 
the  machine.  He  looked  at  the  beam  over 
head  and  said : 

"  I  think  so,  if  you  can  get  a  chain  long 
enough  to  pass  above  the  beam  and  down  under 
the  floor  timber,  so  that  it  will  be  able  to  resist 
the  heavy  purchase  we  must  bring  to  bear 
upon  it." 

He  looked  around  and  saw  the  Squire,  Jake 
Cornish,  and  several  other  men  he  had  met, 
coming  towards  the  shop.  At  the  same  time 


198       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

he  saw  Lunt  and  Sykes  come  out  of  the  bridge 
and  pass  along  the  road. 

John  Crosby  jumped  up  and  rushed  out  of 
the  shop,  crying  out,  "  There  goes  one  of  the 
men  that  set  my  barn  on  fire.  He's  the  very 
tramp." 

"Well,  your  house  may  go  next,"  said  the 
one  called  Sykes.  His  voice  plainly  showed 
that  he  was  drunk  and  desperate,  for  he  picked 
up  a  stone  and  hurled  it  towards  Crosby.  It 
struck  an  old  circular  saw  that  was  hanging 
on  the  side  of  the  shop.  The  noise  was 
deafening. 

Joey  screamed.  The  young  horse  reared, 
broke  the  hitch  strap,  and,  before  anyone  could 
prevent,  whirled  around  and  started  on  the  run 
for  the  bridge. 

Crosby  started  to  head  him  off,  but  the  horse 
rushed  past  him,  swaying  to  the  right.  The 
end  of  the  shaft  struck  Crosby  in  the  breast, 
knocking  him  down,  and  the  wheels  of  the 
heavy  express  wagon  passed  over  him. 

The  lifting  of  the  wagon  in  passing  over 
Crosby  threw  Joey  out,  and  he  fell  between  the 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON       199 

main  stringers  of  the  bridge  and  the  floor  into 
the  swift-running  water  below. 

Gould  took  it  all  in.  He  ran  to  the  shore 
pier,  flung  off  his  coat  and  hat,  plunged  into 
the  water  and  swam  towards  the  struggling 
boy,  who  had  risen  to  the  surface  the  second 
time.  He  managed  to  get  the  little  form  on 
his  shoulders,  and  felt  the  wet  curls  about  his 
neck.  The  child  was  unconscious.  He  swam 
for  the  shore,  the  current  moving  him  rapidly 
towards  Sunny  Point. 

The  alarm  had  spread  to  the  town. 

He  saw  the  two  girls  running  to  the  shore 
from  the  Major's  house. 

Gould  was  very  warm  when  he  jumped 
into  the  river,  and  now  to  his  horror  he  felt  a 
cramp  in  his  right  leg.  He  knew  that  the 
water  was  shoal  a  little  farther  below.  Could 
he  reach  it?  One  leg  he  could  not  command, 
but  he  could  still  keep  above  the  water. 

Lois  and  Madeline  were  coming  in  the 
canoe.  The  former  was  in  the  bow.  As  they 
glided  alongside  the  struggling  man,  Lois 
seized  Joey  and  placed  him  in  the  canoe.  One 


200       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

glance  at  Gould's  face  and  she  saw  that 
something  was  wrong1,  for  he  sank  almost  out 
of  sight. 

As  he  rose  he  cried,  "Cramp,  cramp!"  but 
at  the  same  moment  he  felt  his  feet  touch  bot 
tom.  He  clung  to  the  bow  of  the  boat  until 
they  reached  shoal  water,  and  as  soon  as  he 
could  get  his  breath  he  called  out: 

"To  the  shore  with  the  child!  Quick!  I'll 
take  him.  You  run  ahead  and  get  a  barrel." 

Lois  fairly  flew,  followed  by  Madeline. 
Gould  was  soon  at  the  house  with  the  boy 
in  his  arms.  A  barrel  was  awaiting  him,  Lois 
standing  by  in  silent  agony.  She  saw  Gould 
lay  the  child  over  the  barrel  and  begin  to  roll 
it  gently  to  and  fro,  lifting  him  by  his  clothes, 
then  letting  him  sink  again. 

Joey  had  not  been  long  in  the  water,  and 
soon  began  to  show  signs  of  life. 

Gould  turned  the  boy  over,  put  his  lips 
to  his  mouth  and  filled  the  lungs  full  of  his 
own  breath.  Then  pressing  the  child  suddenly 
he  was  delighted  to  see  him  gasp  and  begin  to 
struggle  for  breath. 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON       201 

"He's  safe.  We  will  take  him  into  the 
house."  They  laid  him  on  the  bed,  our  hero 
rubbing  his  hands  and  face.  Lois  came  with 
the  blankets. 

Joey  soon  opened  his  eyes  and  looked  about 
in  a  bewildered  manner. 

"  His  clothes  must  be  removed  at  once,"  said 
Gould. 

"  I  will  do  it,"  said  Lois  eagerly.  "  Made 
line,  you  warm  the  blankets." 

At  this  juncture  a  heavy  step  was  heard 
coming  through  the  living  room,  and  a  voice 
crying  out  as  though  choked  with  fear : 

"Where  is  my  Joey?  Where  is  my  little 
boy?" 

In  another  moment  John  Crosby  appeared 
at  the  door,  his  clothes  covered  with  dust,  while 
from  a  cut  over  his  eye  blood  was  streaming. 

Gould  was  at  the  bed  helping  to  disrobe 
the  child.  The  frenzied  father  saw  him. 

"My  God!  Must  I  meet  you  everywhere? 
You  are  the  curse  of  my  life.  Get  out  of 
here!  Where  is  my  boy?" 

He  turned  to  see  his  Joey,  pale,  with  the 


202        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

water  from  his  hair  wetting  the  pillows,  and  his 
livid  lips  moving  as  he  faintly  whispered  to  his 
father : 

"Papa,  papa,  he  saved  Joey  from  de  wiver." 

"What  does  he  say,  Lois?" 

"  He's  trying  to  tell  you,  Uncle  John,  that 
the  man  you  have  driven  out  just  saved  Joey 
from  drowning." 

Crosby  turned,  with  a  strange  expression  on 
his  face,  to  where  Gould  had  stood,  but  only 
a  pool  of  water  marked  the  spot.  With  a  groan 
the  fierce  old  man  sank  into  a  chair  beside  the 
bed,  burying  his  face  in  the  wet  pillow. 


CHAPTER  X 

ON  leaving  the  house  after  the  appear 
ance  of  John  Crosby,  Gould  went 
directly  to  Squire  Gray,  who  was  ex 
press  agent.  He  found  that  his  new  clothes 
had  arrived.  From  there  he  went  to  the  pub 
lic  house  and  proceeded  to  change  his  wet 
clothing.  No  sooner  was  it  known  that  he 
was  in  the  house  than  a  crowd  began  to  gather 
on  the  porch  and  in  the  office,  and  what  he  had 
done  was  the  theme  of  their  conversation. 

The  account  of  the  blowing  up  of  the  log 
jam  and  the  wonderful  rifle  shot  had  lost 
nothing  in  the  telling.  The  papers  had  cred 
ited  Falling  Water  with  possessing  a  hero,  and 
everyone  in  the  little  hamlet  felt  that  somehow 
they  shone  by  reflected  light. 

Then  he  added  to  his  swelling  fame  by  sav 
ing  from  drowning  little  Joey  Crosby,  the  son 
of  the  man  who  had  maligned  and  abused  him. 

203 


204        JAY    GOULD    HARMOX 

All  these  things,  occurring  in  rapid  succes 
sion,  were  well  calculated  to  bewilder  the  simple 
folk  of  this  little  town,  who  were  reciting  to 
one  another  with  untiring  enthusiasm  the  story 
of  his  first  appearance,  recounting  over  and 
over  again,  with  growing  pride,  his  exploits, 
which  to  their  minds  had  taken  on  the  form  of 
heroics. 

In  one  of  the  pauses  of  the  conversation 
Bige  Crabtree  asked,  in  his  thin  squeaky  voice, 
his  eyes  puckered  up  and  drawn  in  lines  of  curi 
ous  questioning:  "  Well,  boys,  he  jest  done  all 
these  things,  that's  sartin;  but  I  reckon  there 
isn't  a  man  here  who  knows  who  he  is,  where  he 
came  from,  or  why  he  calls  himself  Jay  Gould. 
Mebbe  Abby  Smart  is  right.  She  declares  he 
is  *  a  regular  princess  in  disuse.' ' 

"  I  don't  care  where  he  came  from,"  roared 
Lige  Fessenden,  "  but  I  want  to  tell  you  now 
'  He's  a  man,  and  take  him  for  all  in  all  we  shall 
not  see  his  like  again.'  That's  what  Shake 
speare  says,  and  that's  about  what  we  all  think, 
eh,  boys?" 

"Well,    you're    just    piping    our    opinion, 


He  felt  that  the  grasp  of  every  man's  hand  was  that  of  a  friend 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        205 

Lige,"  said  old  Sam  Gramme,  the  father  of 
Jim,  and  the  best  guide  in  Aroostook. 

When  Gould  came  down  from  his  room 
he  had  to  shake  hands  with  a  score  of  men,  and 
he  felt  that  the  grasp  of  every  man's  hand  was 
that  of  a  friend.  It  shone  in  their  eyes  as  well. 
He  was  their  hero,  and  modest  as  he  was  he 
could  but  enjoy  their  manifest  pride  in  him. 

The  mail  that  day  brought  Gould  three 
letters,  one  from  Lionel  Sharpe,  and  one  from 
a  large  corporation  that  offered  him  service 
with  them,  practically  on  his  own  terms. 

From  Millinocket  came  a  letter  that  more 
than  astonished  him.  It  was  signed  by  Arthur 
Carter,  chief  engineer  of  a  company  that  was 
building  up  "the  city  of  the  woods."  Gould 
had  known  Carter  at  the  Tech  in  Troy,  but 
had  no  suspicion  that  he  was  one  of  the  men 
who  had  come  down  from  Millinocket  to  watch 
the  breaking  of  the  jam.  "I  thought,"  he 
wrote,  "  that  you  had  some  reason  for  not  giv 
ing  your  full  name.  I  had  heard  that  you  had 
left  New  York,  and  that  you  had  had  trouble. 
I  knew  you,  in  spite  of  your  half -grown  beard 


206        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

and  rough  clothes.  I  know  your  capabilities, 
and  it  seemed  to  me  that  for  a  man  of  your 
education  there  is  something  better  than  river 
driving.  I  ask  not  how  you  came  to  this  estate, 
the  son  of  a  many  times  millionaire.  Some 
thing  very  serious  must  have  occurred  to  have 
brought  you  to  these  woods  and  your  humble 
calling.  Whatever  it  may  be,  I  know  you  too 
well  to  think  tnat  anything  dishonorable  on 
your  part  has  brought  about  this  change  in 
your  prospects. 

"Now,  my  dear  Jay,  I  am  a  sick  man  and 
must  give  up  my  work,  my  hopes,  my  ambitions 
— everything,  in  order  to  save  my  life,  which  is 
threatened  by  the  enemy  of  my  family,  tuber 
culosis.  I  must  find  some  other  clime  with 
healing  in  its  air,  that  I  may  live  a  few  more 
years,  but  not  many  at  best.  It  has  occurred 
to  me  that  I  can  recommend  you  as  my  suc 
cessor.  You  are  in  every  way  as  capable,  and 
have  a  giant's  strength,  that  I  never  possessed. 

"  The  position  pays  five  thousand  a  year,  and 
will  pay  more  when  the  affairs  of  the  com 
pany  are  more  fully  developed.  Five  thou- 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        207 

sand  in  this  woodland  is  worth  more  than  eight 
thousand  in  New  York. 

But  something  too  much  of  this,'  as  Ham 
let  says.  I  want  to  see  you.  To  prove  it  I 
am  coming  to  Falling  Water  the  last  of  the 
week.  So  don't  run  away,  as  you  prize  our 
old-time  friendship." 

Gould  read  the  letter  with  both  joy  and 
sadness.  He  remembered  Arthur  Carter  as  a 
young  man  of  much  talent,  of  whom  great 
things  were  prophesied.  But  even  then  the 
frail  body  could  scarcely  sustain  its  tenant. 
He  graduated  with  high  honors,  and  rapidly 
went  to  the  front  in  his  chosen  profession  of 
civil  engineering. 

The  letter  from  the  Great  Northern  Lumber 
Company  closed  as  follows:  "We  have  learned 
enough  from  reliable  sources  to  satisfy  us  that 
you  are  the  man  we  want  for  our  superin 
tendent.  Please  reply,  and  appoint  such  a 
time  and  place  for  a  meeting  as  will  best  suit 
your  convenience.  We  assure  you  that  the 
question  of  salary  shall  be  satisfactory." 

The  letter  from  Sharpe  was  as  follows: 


208       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

"  DEAR  GOULD:  (I  think  that  is  right) 

"  Your  two  favors  at  hand.  Your  simple  affidavit  that 
the  violin  is  a  genuine  Guillaume  is  sufficient.  I  must 
have  it.  As  I  would  pay  two  thousand  dollars  rather  than 
not  secure  it — why,  pay  two  thousand  dollars  for  it. 
This  is  but  common  honesty.  You  say  the  family  is  de 
serving  but  proud.  This  is  a  rare  blend.  Generally 
pride  and  folly  are  twins.  The  wonder  grows  how  they 
ever  came  into  possession  of  such  an  instrument.  Keep 
it  there  for  the  present.  Play  on  it  all  you  can.  Who 
knows  but  I  may  come  down  to  your  woodsy  home  to 
see  my  new  acquisition,  and  the  one  unselfish  man — your 
Ma  j  or ! 

"  Falling  Water — there  is  witchery  in  the  name,  and 
there  are  such  wonderful  violins  and  wonderful  men 
there!  You  say  nothing  of  women.  There  should  be 
in  that  forest  land  wild  and  beautiful  Katharines  for  a 
shrewd  Petrucio  to  tame.  They  are  the  only  women  that 
interest  me.  The  fierce  and  unlettered  woman  I  might 
trust,  but  only  as  long  as  she  remained  uncivilized. 
The  instinct  of  the  native  Indian  is  true  to  nature.  He 
placed  and  kept  woman  where  she  belonged.  The 
world  would  call  this  brutal.  Well,  let  it. 

"  You  don't  say  much  about  yourself,  more  than  to 
declare  that  you  are  earning  your  living  for  the  first 
time.  That's  like  you.  But  our  papers  are  full  of  the 
wonderful  exploits  of  a  certain  '  Jay  Gould,'  as  they 
have  it,  who  taught  old  drivers  something  new,  besides 
doing  most  daring  things.  I  have  a  robust  suspicion  that 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON       209 

you  were  not  looking  on.  It  suits  me  to  think  so. 
Something  in  your  letter  leads  me  to  think  that  you  are 
rationally  happy.  This  is  the  twin  in  most  cases  of 
hard,  honest  labor  and  independence.  I  have  faith  in 
you.  One  word  of  warning:  Don't  lose  your  heart  again 
unless  it  be  to  some  dark  maiden,  possibly  the  daughter 
of  a  Penobscot  chief,  who  would  think  it  honor  enough 
to  be  but  '  a  hewer  of  wood  and  a  drawer  of  water  '  in 
your  wigwam.  Yours  very  truly,  LIONEL  SHARPE. 

"  P.  S.  Our  Paris  correspondent  writes  that  somewhere 
in  Canada  there  is  an  heir  to  Carl  de  Neumoirs,  who, 
with  his  wife,  was  lost  at  sea.  He  was  a  brother  of  the 
partners  in  the  great  banking  firm  of  de  Neumoirs  et 
Cie.,  our  correspondents  in  Paris.  It  appears  that  he  had 
offended  the  family  by  marrying  a  beautiful  English 
Protestant  who  refused  to  change  her  faith.  They  went 
to  Canada,  and  after  a  while  the  two  families  became 
reconciled.  Carl  and  his  wife  started  to  visit  his  old 
home  in  Paris  leaving  a  child  with  friends.  The  ship  in 
which  they  sailed  went  down,  crushed  by  an  iceberg. 
And  now  the  de  Neumoirs  are  trying  to  find  the  heir  of 
Carl.  They  write  us  to  spare  no  expense  in  trying  to 
find  this  heir.  Do  you  want  the  commission?  It's  a 
woman,  I  think.  '  The  pity  of  it.'  Once  more 

Addios." 

On  his  way  to  Fessenden's  shop  Gould 
met  the  Major. 


210       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  you,  Mr.  Gould.  I 
was  away  when  you  came  back,  or  I  should 
have  been  the  first  to  meet  you." 

"Thank  you,  Mr.  Crosby.  How  is  little 
Joey?" 

"  I  believe  he  is  all  right.  His  mother  came 
and  took  him  home.  He  asked  for  you  sev 
eral  times !  Poor  little  fellow !  He  misses  Lois, 
but  she  could  not  remain  there.  Perhaps  you 
have  heard,  Mr.  Gould?" 

"  I  have  heard  something  about  it,  Mr. 
Crosby.  It  must  be  a  painful  subject  to  you. 
We  will  not  discuss  it." 

"  I  thank  you,"  said  the  Major  feelingly. 
"We  are  expecting  you  at  the  house.  My 
wife  and  Madeline  have  fixed  up  the  room,  and 
everything  is  ready  for  you.  Don't  forget  to 
bring  the  violin.  It  is  at  Squire  Gray's." 

"  I  shall  be  pleased  to  come,  Mr.  Crosby, 
and  will  be  down  as  soon  as  I  explain  to  Mr. 
Fessenden  how  to  straighten  the  axle  on  your 
brother's  reaper." 

"And  after  all  that  has  happened  to-day?" 
said  the  Major  in  surprised  tones. 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        211 

"  Oh,  your  brother  was  not  himself.  He  was 
nearly  insane  with  grief  and  fear.  Besides, 
he  was  hurt  considerably,  and  did  not  know 
at  the  time  that  I  was  the  one  who  saved  Joey 
from  drowning.  If  I  wanted  revenge,  Mr. 
Crosby,  for  your  brother's  persistent  mis 
understanding  of  me,  I  had  the  opportunity 
to-day.  Some  day  your  brother  will  realize  it." 

"  Do  you  know,"  said  the  Major,  "  that  Lois 
has  taken  her  mother's  place  at  the  Academy? 
She  can  teach  French,  but  cannot  teach  the 
piano.  Before  you  came  we  thought  she 
played  the  violin  very  well,  but  now  she  will 
not  draw  a  bow.  We  are  all  very  happy,  arid 
we  know  who  has  made  this  change  in  our 
lives,  and  dispelled  the  dark  clouds  that  hung 
over  us.  We  will  not  embarrass  you  with 
demonstrations  of  our  gratitude,  but  you  must 
allow  us  to  think—  Here  the  Major's 

voice  choked.  "  Well,  I'll  not  say  more." 

Gould  felt  the  rich  reward  of  this  man's 
gratitude,  and  realized  that  in  some  way,  some 
how,  he  was  happier  than  he  had  ever  been 
before.  He  met  the  family  at  supper  in  light- 


hearted  spirits,  and  chatted  with  the  Major 
and  his  wife. 

"Will  you  play  for  us  to-night,  Mr. 
Gould?"  asked  Madeline,  emboldened  by 
Gould's  easy  manner.  '  We  know  who  sent 
the  music  and  the  cabinet.  Mother  has  already 
begun  to  practice  on  '  Stradella.'  Oh,  I  do  wish 
Lois  would  show  you  how  well  she  can  play. 
Won't  you  play  for  him,  Lois?  " 

"  It's  not  my  violin  now,  dear,"  said  Lois 
evasively. 

"That  won't  make  any  difference,  will  it, 
Mr.  Gould?" 

"  Not  in  the  least,"  he  replied.  "  The  violin 
is  to  be  kept  here  for  the  present  and  should  be 
played.  Miss  Lois,"  he  continued,  "  if  you  and 
your  mother  will  play  something  I  think  I  can 
judge  what  system  of  exercises  will  be  better 
for  you  to  take  up.  It  is  a  pity  to  give  up  your 
playing  now.  It  rather  reflects  on  me." 

"  I  will  play  for  you,"  said  Lois. 

"That  reminds  me,"  said  Gould.  "Par 
don  my  stupidity.  I  have  a  draft  in  my 
pocket.  It  is  drawn  in  your  name,  and  it  is 


in  payment  for  the  violin,"  and  he  passed  the 
draft  to  Lois. 

She  took  the  crisp  paper  and  looked  at  it 
curiously,  then  said:  "  This  is  a  draft.  I  never 
saw  one  before."  Suddenly  looking  up,  "  Why, 
this  is  for  two  thousand  dollars.  The  violin 
was  sold  for  one  thousand.  Look,  father, 
there  must  be  a  mistake." 

Her  father  took  the  draft.  "  It  is  for  two 
thousand,"  he  said.  "It  certainly  is  a  mis 
take." 

"  There  is  no  mistake,  Mr.  Crosby.  Let  me 
read  a  part  of  my  friend's  letter."  And  Gould 
read,  "  '  I  would  pay  two  thousand  dollars 
rather  than  not  possess  it.  Therefore  pay  two 
thousand  dollars.  It's  but  common  honesty  to 
do  so.' " 

A  silence  fell  upon  the  family.  Lois  was 
the  first  to  realize  the  import  of  what  this 
money  meant  to  them.  She  looked  first  towards 
her  mother,  then  her  father,  and  in  her  face 
were  evidences  of  gathering  emotion.  She 
arose  and  going  to  her  father  flung  her  arms 
around  his  neck  crying: 


214        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

"  Father,  dear,  dear  father !  You  can  go  to 
Florida  when  the  cold  weather  comes;  you  and 
mother.  You'll  get  well  and  strong.  Albert 
can  go  to  college,  and  dear  little  Madeline,  you 
will  not  have  to  work  so  hard.  I  will  stay  at 
home  and  help  you.  Mother,  you  can  rest.  And 
we  will  all  be  so  happy."  And  she  sank  dpwn 
with  her  fair  head  in  her  mother's  lap,  saying : 
"  I  am  so  happy,  so  happy ! " 

'  Why,  Lois,  my  darling.  You  have  for 
gotten  yourself  and  remembered  everyone 
else,"  said  Mr.  Crosby.  :'  This  money  is  yours ; 
part  of  it,  at  least,  must  be  used  to  give  you  a 
musical  education.  To  learn  to  play  the  violin 
has  been  your  greatest  desire.  Now  you  can 
do  so." 

The  mother  looked  up  to  see  that  her  hus 
band  was  trying  to  control  his  emotion.  But 
Madeline,  the  impetuous,  impulsive  dear  little 
Madeline,  forgot  everything,  and  giving  full 
rein  to  her  feelings,  she  ran  around  to  Gould, 
and  flung  her  arms  around  his  neck  and 
kissed  him,  crying  out  in  childish  joy,  "  You 
dear,  precious  Mr.  Gould!  I  couldn't  help 


JAY   GOULD   HARMON       215 

it ! "  and  she  kissed  him  again.  "  There !  I  feel 
better.  Why  don't  you  kiss  him,  Lois?  I 
know  you  want  to." 

Mrs.  Crosby  drew  Madeline  to  her  side  say 
ing,  "  Do  you  realize,  my  child,  what  you  have 
done?  You  have  actually  made  Mr.  Gould 
blush!  You  must  control  yourself.  Now, 
run  to  my  room  and  sit  down  and  think  it 
over." 

Madeline  looked  around  bewildered,  and  ran 
towards  her  mother's  room  crying,  "What 
have  I  done?  What  have  I  done?  But  I 
couldn't  help  it." 

Rising,  Gould  said  to  the  Major  in  tones 
of  deep  conviction,  "I  have  known  many 
wealthy  men,  but  none  of  them  so  rich  as  you." 
And  he  went  into  his  room. 

That  night  a  letter  was  written  to  Arthur 
Carter  inviting  him  to  come,  and  if  possible  to 
remain  over  Sunday.  "I  will  arrange  for 
your  accommodation  at  the  public  house.  I  ap 
preciate  more  fully  than  I  can  write,  that  deli 
cate  consideration  which  led  you  not  to  make 
yourself  known  at  the  Falls.  Your  letter  came 


216       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

like  a  ray  of  pure  light  on  a  darkened  path. 
I  thank  you  for  it,  and  for  your  continued 
confidence  in  my  honor.  I  have  been  both 
foolish  and  unfortunate,  but  have  not  com 
mitted  myself  to  dishonor  of  any  kind.  I 
respond  to  your  token  of  friendship.  Come." 

Another  letter  was  sent  to  Lionel  Sharpe, 

which    closed    with    these    significant    words: 

'  There  are  no  Katherines  here,  but  there  are 

Imogens,  who  could  ask,  'What  is  it  to  be 

false?'" 

At  breakfast  Gould  announced  that  he 
had  a  friend  at  Millinocket  who  would  visit 
him  the  last  of  the  week.  "I  have  arranged 
with  Mr.  Gary  for  his  accommodation.  He 
has  a  beautiful  tenor  voice,  and  loves  to  sing 
where  good  music  is  appreciated,  as  it  is  here. 
I  have  requested  him  to  bring  some  music. 
Some  of  his  songs  have  obligatos  which  I  will 
play.  I  should  like  to  invite  him  here." 

All  the  family  expressed  their  delight,  and 
it  was  hoped  that  Albert,  who  was  away,  would 
return  and  sing  with  them,  as  he  had  a  fine  bass 
voice. 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON       217 

Carter  arrived  in  Falling  Water  Friday 
night,  and  the  two  friends  talked  together  until 
the  "wee  sma'  hours."  Nothing  was  said  by 
either  of  the  cause  which  had  led  Gould  to 
begin  life  anew,  "  away  down  in  Maine." 

Carter  had  perfected  arrangements  for 
Gould  to  take  his  place  the  middle  of  October. 
It  only  remained  for  his  friend  to  accept. 

"Why  do  you  hesitate,  Jay?" 

"I'll  tell  you,  Arthur.  I  promised  one  of 
the  dearest  old  men  that  I  ever  met  that  I 
would  not  '  sell  my  services,'  as  he  expressed  it, 
until  I  had  first  seen  him."  And  Jay  related 
the  circumstances. 

Carter  replied:  "You  can  fix  that  easily 
enough.  I  know  Lumbert.  He  is  a  good 
man  anywhere.  You  hire  him  instead  of  his 
hiring  you.  In  your  position  you  will  have  to 
hire  all  the  men,  and  you  can  give  Lumbert  an 
easier  job  than  that  of  taking  the  responsi 
bility  of  the  West  Branch  drive." 

So  it  was  settled.  But  neither  dreamed  of 
the  tragic  event  awaiting  them. 


CHAPTER  XI 

IN  the  morning  they  went  to  the  post  office. 
Half  of  the  town  was  there,  waiting  for 
their  mail,  some  talking  about  their  won 
derful  oil  well  in  California,  some  still  linger 
ing    upon    the    agreeable    topic    of    Gould's 
exploits. 

"  I  say,"  said  Lige.  '  Yer  jest  the  man  we 
want  to  see.  Is  there  such  a  concern  in  New 
York  as  the  Calaveras  Oil  and  Gas  Company? 
John  Crosby  and  his  friend  Sapient  have  sold  a 
lot  of  the  stock  here,  and  they  wanted  me  to 
buy  some,  but  the  Squire  advised  me  to  wait 
until  you  came.  He  wanted  'em  all  to  wait, 
but  they  wouldn't.  I  generally  come  out  purty 
well  when  I  take  the  Squire's  advice.  John 
Crosby  and  Sapient  say  they  own  a  controlling 
interest,  and  it's  going  to  make  'em  dretful 
rich.  Do  you  know  anything  about  sich  a  con 
cern?" 

218    / 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        219 

The  crowd  had  gathered  round  them,  and 
was  eager  to  hear  what  Gould  would  say. 

"  I  never  heard  of  such  a  concern  in  New 
York,  but  you  can  send  a  wire  to  the  Oil 
Exchange  asking  if  there  is  such  a  concern. 
They  know  of  every  oil  company  in  the  world." 

"  I'll  go  and  send  a  dispatch  this  moment," 
said  Jake  Cornish,  and  off  he  went. 

'Where  did  you  say  this  oil  property  is 
located?"  inquired  Carter. 

"  Our  property,"  said  John  Cary,  keeper  of 
the  public  house,  "is  located  in  Calaveras 
County,  California."  He  looked  toward  John 
Crosby,  who  had  just  come  up,  for  corrobora- 
tion. 

'You  are  right,  Mr.  Cary,"  said  Crosby 
sententiously,  "  and  I  have  maps  here  to  show 
just  exactly  where  it  is  located.  I  am  pre 
pared  to  fill  out  subscription  blanks  and  issue 
certificates  of  stock." 

Carter  seemed  interested,  and  in  a  clear  voice 
that  all  could  hear  said: 

"  It  so  happens,  gentlemen,  that  I  know 
something  about  the  oil  business  in  California. 


220        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

I  have  looked  up  the  matter  carefully,  for  I  am 
going  there  this  winter  with  the  purpose  of 
entering  into  the  oil  production  business.  I 
have  been  in  correspondence  with  the  son  of 
Judge  York  of  Los  Angeles,  who  is  an  experi 
enced  oil  man,  and  who  already  has  a  number 
of  paying  wells,  three  of  them  gushers." 

There  were  many  knowing  and  satisfied 
glances  passed  between  the  men  who  had 
bought  the  oil  stock  when  they  heard  Carter 
make  this  statement. 

'Yes,  gentlemen,  there  is  a  lot  of  oil  in 
California." 

Old  John  was  swelling  up.  His  face  fairly 
glowed  as  he  said: 

"  I  rather  guess  you  men  will  begin  to  find 
out  that  Squire  Gray  don't  know  everything, 
but  that  John  Crosby  knows  a  little  something 
after  all." 

"  Wait  a  moment,  Mr.  Crosby,"  said  Carter. 
"  There  is  oil  in  California.  I  have  a  map  of 
the  oil  belt  in  my  pocket,  gotten  out  by  the 
Producers'  Oil  Exchange  in  San  Francisco, 
and  certified  to  by  the  State  authorities.  So 


there  can  be  no  question  of  its  correctness. 
Step  into  the  store  and  I  will  lay  it  before  you." 

The  chart  was  laid  upon  the  counter,  the 
crowd  hanging  over  it  in  breathless  excitement. 

"Now  you  can  see,"  continued  Carter, 
"  there  is  some  mistake  in  the  locality  of  your 
property.  Here  is  Calaveras  County.  The 
oil  belt  lies  one  hundred  and  sixty  miles  south 
of  that  county.  No  oil  has  been  discovered 
north  of  this  line.  You  are  either  swindled, 
or  there  is  a  bad  mistake." 

There  was  no  questioning  this  authority. 
The  silence  that  followed  was  almost  painful. 

John  Crosby  sank  into  a  chair  saying,  with  a 
groan,  "  If  that  is  true,  I  am  a  ruined  man." 

"Have  you  paid  for  the  stock?"  inquired 
Harmon. 

"  I  gave  Sapient  a  check  for  eight  thousand 
dollars  this  morning.  He  has  gone  to  Bangor, 
probably  to  cash  it.  The  villain!" 

"Go  to  the  telegraph  office  and  stop  pay 
ment  on  your  check.  There  is  time  enough," 
said  Gould.  "  Come  at  once.  I  will  go 
with  you.  You  are  too  shocked  to  write." 


And  that  astonished  crowd  witnessed  the 
strange  sight  of  seeing  John  Crosby  led  along, 
weak  and  shaking,  by  the  man  he  had  so  grossly 
outraged. 

The  money  was  saved,  Sapient  apprehended 
and  locked  up. 

"Well,"  said  Lige,  after  hearing  of  Sapi- 
ent's  arrest,  "  I  guess  Gary,  Lansil  and  Cor 
nish  will  stay  at  home  this  winter  and  leave 
Florida  out  of  their  calculations.  But  my, 
my!  They  were  rich  for  about  a  week.  They 
ain't  so  rich  now  by  a  few  hundred,  but  they 
know  a  heap  more.  The  Squire  is  the  only  one 
that  saved  me  from  making  jest  as  big  a  fool 
of  myself  as  they  did.  I  have  concluded  that 
our  strong  hold  up  here  is  to  all  settle  down 
and  jest  be  common  everyday  folks.  We 
know  how  to  do  that,  and  I  find  there  is  about 
as  much  average  happiness  in  that  as  in  any 
thing  I  ever  did.  What  do  you  think,  Cor 
nish?" 

"  There  are  times,  Lige,  when  its  mighty 
becoming  to  a  man  to  keep  still.  And  I  guess 
this  is  one  of  the  times." 


223 

Gould  and  Carter  spent  much  of  their 
time  in  the  woods  just  back  of  Sunny  Point 
Lodge,  as  Carter  had  dubbed  the  Major's 
home.  They  watched  the  playful  deer  that 
seemed  to  have  no  fear  of  them,  for  they  would 
come  up  and  eat  out  of  their  hands,  and  permit 
them  to  stroke  their  velvet  necks. 

'This  is  an  Arcadia,"  said  Carter.  "Ar- 
den's  forest  was  but  the  dream  of  a  poet.  This 
is  a  substantial  and  lovely  fact.  If  the  Major 
would  come  out  and  play  the  part  of  the  wise 
Duke,  and  you  take  Orlando's  character,  Lois 
the  charming  Rosalind,  and  Madeline  the 
friend  who  shares  her  banishment." 

"  Let  me  add  a  character,"  broke  in  Gould, 
not  unpleased  with  his  friend's  playful  sug 
gestion.  "And  you  the  repentant  brother 
who  '  No  sooner  met  but  they  looked ;  no  sooner 
looked  but  they  loved ;  no  sooner  loved  but  they 
sighed;  no  sooner  sighed  but  they  asked  one 
another  the  reason ;  no  sooner  knew  the  reason 
but  they  sought  the  remedy.' ' 

And  both  men  indulged  in  a  jolly  laugh,  for 
from  the  beginning  of  Carter's  acquaintance 


224       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

with  the  Major's  family  it  was  evident  that 
Madeline  had  made  a  great  impression  upon 
him,  and  Madeline  seemed  equally  attracted. 

He  had  said  to  Gould:  "I  never  saw  so 
beautiful  a  girl.  And  she  is  as  dainty  as  rare 
old  china.  Where  did  she  and  her  sister — and 
as  for  that  I  might  say  their  mother — get  their 
surprising  grace  and  manners?  To  me  it  is 
unaccountable."  And  then  more  soberly  he 
continued,  "  I  am  quite  sure  I  should  lose  my 
heart  right  here  if  I  had  not  forsworn  love,  for 
no  man  on  whom  there  seems  fastened  an  in 
curable  disease  should  ask  any  woman  to 
become  his  wife.  I  don't  wonder  that  you  find 
the  village  of  Falling  Water  a  pleasant  place 
to  abide  in." 

"  I  have  found  it  a  pleasant  place,"  said 
Gould  frankly.  "  But  it  is  not  pleasant  to  hear 
my  friend  say  that  he  has  an  incurable  disease, 
and  that  hope  has  fled.  Many  a  man  has  been 
saved  from  the  danger  which  threatens  you  by 
going  to  the  mountains  of  Colorado.  I  wish 
you  would  try  Colorado  first,  and  I  will  give 
you  my  reasons."  He  did,  and  it  was  agreed 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        225 

that  his  friend  should  visit  Colorado  Springs 
before  going  further  west. 

"  How  does  it  happen,  Jay,  that  this  family 
seems  to  possess  everything  but  money?  Mrs. 
Crosby  would  grace  a  ducal  palace.  What  is 
the  mystery?" 

"  I  have  heard  that  there  is  a  strain  of  high 
caste  French  blood  in  her  mother's  veins. 
Someone  told  me  so.  A  Mr.  Lincoln,  I  think, 
who,  by  the  way,  is  a  great  admirer  of  Made 
line."  * 

"  Do  you  think  she  cares  for  him? "  inquired 
Carter. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  pretend  to  understand  women," 
replied  his  friend. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  you,  Jay? "  Then 
seeing  something  in  his  friend's  face,  he  con 
tinued,  "  I  beg  your  pardon,  old  friend.  This 
subject  is  evidently  not  agreeable." 

Carter,  regardless  of  his  resolution  to  for 
swear  love,  continued  to  pay  Madeline  marked 
attention.  They  took  long  walks  together. 
He  sang  songs  to  her  accompaniment,  and  he 
looked  unutterable  things  into  her  sweet  face. 


226       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

His  attentions,  while  delicate,  were  pro 
nounced,  and  Madeline  seemed  more  than 
pleased  with  her  sad-eyed,  scholarly  lover. 

Gould  was  astonished  at  the  turn  affairs 
had  taken,  but  said  nothing. 


CHAPTER  XII 

IT  was  now  early  September,  and  on  that 
northern  border  there  is  chill  in  the  air 
and  a  hint  of  the  coming  winter.  One 
night  Gould  and  his  friend  strolled  up  to 
Squire  Gray's  store.  He  had  built  a  fire 
in  the  fireplace,  which  was  throwing  out  its 
cheer  and  bidding  welcome  to  all  the  Squire's 
friends;  so  they  evidently  thought,  for  they 
came  strolling  in,  one  after  another,  until  every 
box,  nail  keg,  and  chair  was  occupied,  while 
many  squatted  upon  the  floor,  content  to  be 
within  the  magic  circle  of  that  friendly  blaze. 
There  was  Lige  Fessenden,  who  always  oc 
cupied  the  front  and  center;  Bige  Crabtree,  his 
little  body  resting  upon  a  small  tobacco  keg; 
Joe  Gary,  who  had  left  his  own  fireplace  to  sit 
around  the  Squire's;  old  Sam  Gramme,  Eph 
Newcomb,  the  retired  peddler,  and  Luther 
Pickard  and  his  brother  Mark,  two  war  veter- 

227 


228       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

ans  who  loved  to  tell  their  yarns  over  and  over 
again  to  their  comrades,  who  seemed  never 
tired  of  hearing  them. 

The  Squire  sat  on  a  little  stool  back  of  the 
counter,  enjoying  this  mobilization  of  his 
friends.  There  was  a  look  of  satisfaction  and 
content  in  his  handsome  old  face,  and  he 
seemed  pleased  that  he  was  living  in  peace  with 
all  mankind.  When  Gould  and  his  friend 
entered  every  man  jumped  up  and  offered  his 
place,  but  the  Squire  passed  over  the  stool  he 
was  sitting  on  and  brought  out  a  chair  for  the 
two  men. 

"Glad  to  see  ye,"  called  out  Lige.  "Ye 
seem  like  one  of  us.  This  is  a  circle  of  broth 
erly  love,  Mr.  Gould,  and  the  Squire  he's 
moderator.  Rather  chilly,  isn't  it?  '  The  air 
bites  shrewdly;  it's  a  nipping  and  an  eager 
air,'  as  Shakespeare  says."  Carter  looked  sur 
prised  at  the  readiness  with  which  this  rough- 
looking  blacksmith  quoted  from  the  great 
poet,  but  Gould  knew  his  man,  and  said  to 
his  friend,  "  Don't  you  be  surprised  at  anything 
you  hear  to-night.  The  further  north  you  get, 


the  brighter  the  men  are,  like  some  of  our 
fruit.  The  further  north  apples  and  grapes 
grow,  the  richer  they  are."  He  had  said  this 
in  an  undertone  to  his  friend.  Both  felt  the 
spirit  of  good  cheer  that  prevailed,  and  were 
disposed  to  remain.  Their  presence  at  first 
seemed  to  check  the  usual  flow  of  talk,  of 
stories  of  adventures  that  some  had  experienced 
or  had  learned  of ;  but  after  awhile  Lige  spoke 
up :  "  Eph,  can't  ye  tell  about  that  robber  that 
tried  to  kill  ye  in  the  Seven-mile  woods?  Thar 
are  a  good  many  here  who  never  heered  of  it; 
some  of  us  have,  but  it's  a  mighty  good  yarn, 
and  ye  better  tell  it  again,  pro  bono  publico," 
and  Lige  looked  around  as  much  as  to  say, 
"rather  think  that's  pretty  good  for  a  black 
smith." 

Eph  Newcomb,  nearly  eighty  years  of  age, 
but  still  hearty  and  strong,  was  a  large  man, 
with  beard  and  hair  as  white  as  snow.  He  was 
a  patriarch  in  appearance.  He  was  well-to- 
do,  and  had  retired  ten  years  ago  and  was  liv 
ing  easily  on  his  accumulations.  He  was 
thoroughly  truthful,  and  everything  he  said 


230 

was  to  be  relied  upon;  so  when  he  told  a  story 
it  was  regarded  as  the  Holy  Writ  as  far  as  the 
truth  was  concerned.  He  took  his  old  pipe 
out  of  his  mouth,  and,  knocking  the  tobacco 
out  upon  the  brick  fireplace,  hemmed  and 
hawed  a  little,  and  then  began  his  story. 

"  Wall,  ye  see,  I  peddled  from  here  to  Van 
Buren  for  nigh  thirty  years,  and  I  knew  most 
everybody  in  Aroostook  county  by  their  given 
names.  I  had  to  buy  everything,  from  a  shoe 
for  a  little  baby  to  wedding  gowns,  and  they 
trusted  me  with  their  money  as  they  would 
a  savings  bank;  and  if  I  do  say  it,  Eph  New- 
comb  never  had  a  dishonest  cent  in  his  pocket. 

"  Wall,  some  twenty  years  ago  I  started  out 
from  Patten  for  the  mouth  of  the  road.  My 
peddler  cart  was  empty.  I  got  down  as  far 
as  No.  1  when  my  horse  was  taken  lame.  I 
drove  up  to  the  old  tavern  thar,  and  told  the 
hostler  to  take  him  out  and  try  ter  find  out 
what  the  matter  was. 

"It  was  in  April,  and  a  good  many  men 
were  coming  out  of  the  woods.  When  I  went 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        231 

in  their  big  room,  I  found  a  lot  of  men  laying 
on  the  floor  on  their  camp  blankets.  It  was 
about  six  o'clock,  and  coolish.  They  had  a 
big  fire  roaring  in  the  fireplace.  A  good  many 
of  the  men  were  asleep.  There  must  have  been 
fifteen  or  twenty  of  'em  stretched  out  there. 
They  were  a  hard-looking  set,  with  their  dirty 
clothes  on,  red  shirts,  blue  shirts,  gray  shirts, 
and  some  that  had  not  been  changed  in  three 
months ;  and  all  had  a  winter's  growth  of  beard. 
I  knowed  some  of  'em,  as  they  came  from  here 
abouts,  but  there  was  one  fellow  that  looked 
odd  in  that  set  of  rough  men.  He  was  as  slick 
as  a  hound's  tooth,  and  dressed  up  to  kill.  His 
face  was  as  white  as  a  girl's.  He  had  little 
black  eyes,  as  sharp  as  needles,  and  one  of  the 
crudest  mouths  ye  ever  see,  that  kind  of  a 
mouth  yer  can't  see  any  red  in  the  lips,  sort  o' 
thin  and  cold  like.  I'd  hearn  a  good  deal 
about  a  certain  Bill  Pinto,  who  had  been 
around  those  parts  and  didn't  seem  ter  have 
any  business.  Wherever  he  went,  there  was 
always  something  happened.  Nothing  had 
been  traced  to  him,  but  everybody  suspicioned 


232        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

'im.  The  post  office  was  robbed  at  Sherman 
Mills  the  day  he  was  there;  the  store  was 
broken  into  at  Patten,  and  he  was  there;  but 
that  was  all.  Ye  couldn't  trace  anything  to 
him.  He  had  been  arrested  at  Houlton  for 
being  concerned  in  a  highway  robbery,  but  by 
the  sworn  oath  of  two  Frenchmen  he  proved 
an  alibi.  When  they  found  old  Jim  Smith 
murdered  in  his  own  house,  suspicion  pointed 
to  Pinto,  and  he  was  arrested,  but  somehow 
the  jury  didn't  agree,  and  he  went  scot  free. 
I'd  hearn  a  good  deal  about  him,  but  never  had 
seen  him.  But  when  I  saw  that  slick  cuss  at 
No.  1,  I  knowed  by  the  description  I  had  had 
of  'im  that  it  was  Pinto. 

"I  had  about  five  hundred  dollars  in  my 
pocket  and  he  must  have  known  it.  I  noticed 
he  kept  his  eye  on  me  pretty  clus  and  I  began 
to  grow  nervous,  and  I  made  up  my  mind  that 
I  was  going  through  to  the  mouth  of  the  road 
that  night,  whether  my  old  hoss  was  lame  or 
not.  My  peddler  cart  had  been  run  under  a 
shed  backwards.  When  it  was  full  of  goods 
I  ginerally  had  three  padlocks  to  secure  the 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        233 

main  door  behind,  but  when  it  was  empty  I 
used  only  one,  and  held  down  the  harsps  of 
the  other  two  by  two  oak  sticks  that  hung  on 
the  cart.  That  kept  the  harsps  from  rattling. 
"  Wall,  I  had  the  boss  hitched  up  and  started 
down  through  the  Seven-mile  woods  to  the 
mouth  of  the  road.  It  wa'n't  very  late,  and  I 
made  up  my  mind  I  could  reach  it  by  nine 
o'clock.  I  heard  one  of  the  harsps  rattle. 
When  I  reached  the  three-mile-and-a-half 
pitch  I  drove  over  the  end  of  a  log.  Yer  see, 
a  tree  had  fallen  acrost  the  road  since  I'd 
passed  there,  and  they  cut  out  just  enough  of 
it  to  let  a  wagon  pass  through;  but  it's  being 
dark,  I  didn't  see  it  and  went  too  far  to  the 
right  and  run  plumb  over  it.  It  liked  to  have 
throwed  me  out  of  the  wagon.  The  front  end 
bobbed  up,  and  then  the  hind  end,  and  I  jest 
felt  my  hair  stand  on  end  when  I  heard  some 
thing  kind  of  heavy  bump  inside  the  cart,  and 
something  grunt  like  as  a  man  falling  over  a 
fence  and  striking  on  his  back.  I  knowed  in 
a  minute  what  it  meant.  It  was  perfectly 
clear  to  me.  Pinto  was  in  the  cart,  and  he  was 


234       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

jest  waitin'  to  murder  me  and  git  my  money 
when  he  reached  the  Black  Alder  swamp,  about 
a  mile  ahead.  There  was  where  he  probably 
would  git  his  work  in.  But  I  thought  as  quick 
as  he  did,  I  calculate.  I  was  jest  a  little  feard 
that  he  would  think  my  suspicion  would  be 
aroused  by  his  grunting,  and,  ter  sort  of  de 
ceive  him,  I  begun  ter  swear  a  little  about  ther 
tarnal  road,  and  to  jaw  a  road  commissioner 
that  would  leave  a  thing  like  this.  After  a 
while,  I  begun  to  whistle,  and  then  I  tried  ter 
sing,  but  I  ken  tell  yer  now  boys  ther  wasn't 
much  music  in  my  voice.  But  I  fooled  him, 
as  he  afterwards  said  himself. 

"  What  was  I  ter  do?  I  could  have  got  off 
and  hid  in  ther  woods  and  let  the  hoss  go  on ; 
but  that  was  not  jest  my  idee  of  doing  things. 
Arter  a  while  I  laid  out  this  plan  and  carried 
it  out:  I  quietly  took  off  my  boots,  then  I 
stepped  down,  the  hoss  still  walking  along,  and 
stood  side  the  road  and  let  the  cart  pass  me. 
I  was  jest  a  little  shaky  when  the  hind  part 
came  in  sight,  f er  I  didn't  know  but  what  the 
cuss  had  heard  me  and  wrould  drop  the  door 


235 

and  spring  out;  but  I  held  the  heavy  whip  in 
my  hand  and  would  have  made  a  fight  if  he 
didn't  shoot  me  dead. 

"Wall,  the  ground  was  kinder  soft  and 
sandy  there  where  we  was,  and  I  was  in  my 
stocking  feet.  I  run  up  on  the  right  side, 
slipped  the  harsp  over  the  staple,  and  shoved 
home  the  stout  oak  stick. 

'  There,  damn  you,  Pinto,'  I  said,  'yer  in 
f  er  it  now.' 

"I  fell  behind  a  little  ways,  but  kept  near 
'nough  to  hear  him  if  he  tried  to  drop  the  door. 
Then  I  went  up  ter  the  left  side  and  fastened 
that  harsp.  I  felt  pretty  shore  of  my  man 
then.  He  couldn't  get  out,  that  was  shore. 

"  Wall,  we  were  approaching  the  Black  Alder 
swamp,  where  I  knowed  he  would  begin  opera 
tions.  I  had  got  up  into  the  seat  and  was 
keepin'  my  head  down  arid  listening  purty 
sharply.  Purty  soon  I  could  hear  him  strain 
ing  at  the  door.  He  was  trying  to  push  it 
open.  He'd  got  an  idee  in  his  head  that  the 
harsp  had  accidentally  fallen  over  the  staple, 
and  he  must  push  or  shake  it  off,  but  must  be 


quiet  about  it.  Wall,  he  strained  and  strained, 
and  then  he  gave  it  up.  Purty  soon  I  heard 
him  say: 

: '  I  say,  Newcomb.'     He  was  right  close  up 
ter  the  seat. 

"'Wall,'  I  said. 

'  Why,  I  laid  down  in  your  wagon  and  fell 
asleep,  and  I  guess  you  didn't  know  it.  Jest 
let  a  fellow  out.  I  want  to  go  back  to  No.  1. 
I'll  pay  you  for  your  trouble.' 

'  Wall,  I'm  goin'  down  to  the  mouth  of  the 
road,  Pinto,  and  you  can  go  along  jest  as  well 
as  not.  I'll  let  yer  out  there.' 

"  I  heard  a  smothered  oath,  and  I  knew  the 
man  was  desperate,  and  I  thought  he  might 
shoot  right  through  the  seat.  So  I  quietly 
slid  over  onto  the  other  side,  and  got  down  on 
my  knees  in  front  of  the  dashboard,  and 
waited. 

"  Finally  I  heard  him  say,  '  You're  going  to 
let  me  out,  Newcomb? ' 

"  I  swung  my  head  over  so  that  the  reply 
would  sound  as  though  I  was  on  the  seat. 
'Yeas,  when  we  git  to  Coburn's.' 


237 

'  Take  that,  then,  damn  you ! '  There  was 
the  smothered  report  of  a  pistol,  and  a  sliver 
flew  off  the  back  of  the  seat.  Had  I  been  on 
the  seat,  the  ball  would  have  entered  the  small 
of  my  back  and  killed  me. 

"  Wall,  I  sort  of  pitched  forward,  groaned 
considerable,  kinder  tapering  off  the  sound 
as  though  I  was  dying,  and  then  I  kept  still. 

'Then  Pinto,  he  begun  to  cry  out  to  ther 
boss,  'Whoa,  whoa!'  and  every  time  he  said 
'Whoa,'  I'd  prod  the  boss.  He  kept  'whoa- 
ing '  it  for  some  time,  but  seeing  the  boss  didn't 
stop  he  made  up  his  mind  he  must  git  out.  So 
he  went  kicking  at  the  side  of  the  cart ;  but  the 
cart  had  been  made  of  good  sound  ash  stock 
and  he  was  so  cooped  up  that  he  couldn't  lam 
out  very  strong  with  his  feet;  but  he  banged 
away  for  some  time. 

"  Wall,  I  had  got  by  the  lake  and  over  the 
rise  and  moving  alqng  towards  the  Corners. 
Purty  soon  I  saw  a  light  in  a  house,  and  I 
swung  the  boss  into  the  yard,  and  the  custom  in 
'Roostook  county  is  that  when  anyone  drives 
in  someone  will  come  to  the  door.  Shore 


238       JAY   GOULD    HARMON 

'nough,  out  comes  Joe  Moyer,  and  before  he 
could  speak  a  word — I  was  still  in  my  stocking 
feet — I  slid  down  from  the  wagon  and  rushed 
up,  with  my  hand  on  my  mouth,  shaking  my 
head  and  pointing  to  the  cart.  I  whispered : 

" '  I  got  Pinto  in  that  cart.  Git  your  gun 
and  follow  me.  Don't  speak.'  He  seemed  to 
comprehend.  I  went  to  the  head  of  the  hoss, 
and,  without  speaking,  led  him  along.  Then 
Pinto  began  trying  to  stop  the  hoss.  I  saw 
Moyer  behind  with  his  gun,  and  when  Pinto 
began  to  kick  again,  I  said,  '  Stop  yer  kicking, 
er  I'll  shoot  inter  the  wagon.' 

" '  I  thought  I'd  shot  you,'  said  a  voice  in 
side. 

" '  Ye  tried  to,  but  ye  didn't.' 

" '  If  yer  will  let  me  go,  Newcomb,  I'll  give 
you  one  hundred  dollars.' 

" '  Not  f er  five  hundred,  my  pretty  one,'  I 
replied.  'When  we  get  to  the  mouth  of  the 
road  I'll  let  yer  out.' 

"Moyer  stood  at  the  tail  of  the  cart  while 
I  went  in  and  gave  the  alarm. 

"  Wall,  there  was  a  lot  of  river  drivers  down 


JAY   GOULD    HARMON       239 

there,  too,  and  they  all  got  round  the  cart,  and 
when  all  was  ready,  I  said:  *  Pinto,  we're  going 
ter  let  yer  out  now,  but  there  are  five  rifles  pint- 
ing  right  at  yer,  and  if  yer  use  that  pistol, 
yer'll  die  where  yer  are.  Now,  when  I  open 
this  side  of  the  door  you  pass  that  pistol  out, 
or  we  won't  spare  yer.' 

"  Wall,  when  the  door  was  let  down  he  was 
a  sorry  sight.  His  clothes  was  nearly  torn  off 
of  'im,  and  his  slick  appearance  all  gone.  He 
hadn't  a  friend  in  the  crowd.  They  knowed 
his  reputation,  and  always  believed  he  killed  a 
man  above  Houlton.  After  they  had  bound 
him  they  tormented  him  fer  nearly  an  hour. 
After  a  while  the  constable  came,  and  he  was 
taken  to  Houlton  and  sent  up  for  twenty 
j^ears.  I  believe  he's  out  now,  but  we've  never 
seen  him  around  here.  I  never  went  over  that 
road  afterwards  but  I  shuddered  when  I  came 
to  the  three-mile-and-a-half  pitch,  for  I 
called  to  mind  how  mighty  scart  I  was  right 
thar." 

There  was  not  a  word  spoken  while  the  old 


man  related  his  story.  When  he  had  finished 
Lige  said,  "We're  much  obleeged  to  ye,  Mr. 
Newcomb,  if  ye  have  frightened  us  most  to 
death.  If  I'd  been  thar  I  would  have  tuck  to 
the  woods  and  let  the  hoss  go  on." 

One  by  one  the  old  friends  took  their  depar 
ture,  Gould  and  Carter  among  the  others. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  that  story,  Carter? " 
said  Gould,  as  they  were  about  to  separate 
at  the  hotel  porch. 

"  Well,  if  I  could  write  that  as  the  old  man 
told  it,  and  have  the  surroundings  as  we  saw 
them  to-night,  it  would  capture  the  attention 
of  the  world.  But  no  pen  can  do  justice  to 
that  story,  nor  any  brush  portray  that  wonder 
ful  scene.  It  makes  fashionable  life  very 
tame." 


CHAPTER  XIII 

CARTEPt  and  Jay  lingered  on  the  hotel 
porch  after  the  close  of  the  tale  by 
the  peddler. 

"  I  am  brushing  up  my  French,"  Carter 
said  to  Gould.  '  Your  women  talk  French 
like  Parisians.  By  the  way,  old  man,  the 
more  I  see  of  Miss  Lois  the  more  beautiful 
she  grows.  Nothing  but  a  count  would  do 
for  her,  and  he  would  have  to  be  a  good 
count,  and  no  adventurer.  What  about  that 
French  strain  you  mentioned?  Would  it 
offend  them  if  we  made  some  inquiry? " 

"  I  think  not,  if  we  managed  it  right,"  re 
plied  his  friend.  "  But  let  me  show  you  some 
thing.  I  can't  think  that  it  can  be  this  family, 
for  the  heir  spoken  of  is  in  Canada.  Read 
that,"  and  he  handed  him  Sharpe's  letter, 
pointing  to  the  postscript. 

When  Carter  finished  reading,  he  said, 
"How  long  have  you  had  this  letter?" 

241 


"A  week  or  so." 

"And  you  have  never  spoken  of  it  to  this 
family,  nor  made  any  inquiry?" 

"No.  Why  should  I?  It  would  look  like 
inquiring  into  their  private  affairs." 

"  Oh,  you  are  stupid,  my  dear  boy,"  replied 
Carter  with  feeling.  "  It  would  have  shown 
your  interest  in  the  family.  But  let  me  tell 
you  right  here  that  I  think  this  explains  the 
mystery  of  this  whole  thing.  I'll  ask  Miss 
Madeline.  Let  me  take  the  letter." 

"Arthur,  I  am  willing  for  you  to  take  the 
letter,  but  I  request  that  you  say  nothing  to  the 
family  for  a  few  days,  or  until  I  can  see  Mr. 
Lincoln.  I  think  he  knows  something  about 
this  matter,  and  it  may  save  us  all  some  embar 
rassment  if  we  wait  until  we  are  sure  of  our 
ground.  The  family  are  very  proud,  and  their 
feelings  could  be  easily  hurt." 

"  I  will  wait,  Jay.  I  want  to  see  that  Lin 
coln,  too.  I  am  just  a  bit  jealous  of  him." 

"Don't  worry,  Arthur,"  said  Jay  with  a 
smile.  "Lincoln  plays  ragtime  on  a  zither 
while  you  sing  Tolstoi's  '  Good-by,  Summer.' 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        243 

But  be  careful,  my  friend.  Don't  forget  that 
there  are  two  hearts  involved." 

That  day  there  came  a  letter  for  Gould 
from  Lionel  Sharpe.  It  was  a  bulky  one,  and 
he  waited  until  the  hour  for  retiring  before 
opening  it.  The  unusual  size  of  the  letter  led 
him  to  think  that  it  was  important,  and  some 
thing  told  him  that  it  would  give  him  pain. 

He  moved  the  stand  to  the  head  of  his  bed, 
placed  the  lamp  on  it,  settled  himself  in  a  chair, 
opened  the  letter  and  began  to  read.  Only 
once  did  he  stop  reading,  and  that  was  to  say, 
"Poor,  poor  father!" 

"  JAY  GOULD  : — I  am  in  receipt  of  yours,  giving  the 
description  of  the  receiving  of  the  two  thousand  dollars 
by  your  wonderful  Crosby  family,  where  they  had  ex 
pected  only  one  thousand.  I  would  have  given  another 
to  have  been  invisibly  present  and  witnessed  their  honest 
astonishment.  No  one  living  in  great  cities  knows  the 
joy  of  anything  new  or  surprising. 

"  I  am  sending  you  under  another  cover  an  account  of 
a  so-called  marriage  of  our  Marshall  Harmon  with  Miss 
Marion  Stackpole.  The  crime  against  nature  has  '  come 
off.'  I  myself  witnessed  the  sacrament  of — well  I'll  not 
name  it.  The  woman — for  there  was  no  bride — was  of 


244       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

course  your  whilom  fiancee  whose  praises  you  were  wont 
to  pour  with  all  a  lover's  fervor,  into  my  skeptical  ears ; 
the  one  whom  you  thought  pomp  and  vanity  could  not 
spoil;  the  one  true-hearted  and  faithful  of  your  set,  etc., 
etc.  How  eloquent  you  were  in  her  praise,  and  how  hon 
est!  Yet  she  was  sold  to  the  highest  bidder,  and  that 
bidder  was  your  father.  I  almost  regret  for  your  sake 
this  latest  corroboration  of  my  belief  and  conviction  of 
the  utter  faithlessness  and  heartlessness  of  the  modern 
woman.  I  resent  the  wrongs  which  you  have  suffered 
at  the  hands  of  this  woman,  as  I  resent  and  always  shall 
resent  the  hopeless  grief  they  have  caused  me. 

"  As  hard  as  it  will  be  for  you  to  read,  I  will  give  you 
an  account  of  what  took  place  on  the  wedding  day.  Your 
father  strode  down  the  aisle  of  the  church,  proud  and 
potential,  to  be  seized  with  his  new  and  beautiful  prop 
erty.  The  ghastly  ceremony  proceeded.  The  bride  had 
the  becoming  sense  to  look  her  unhappiness.  As  she 
walked  up  the  aisle  after  the  ceremony,  on  the  arm  of  the 
bank  president  who  had  bought  her,  her  bearing  was 
not  that  of  a  proud  and  happy  bride.  She  had  assumed  to 
pay  her  father's  debts  and  scoff  at  love.  At  the  time  she 
made  the  promise  the  payment  seemed  rather  remote,  but 
the  hour  of  liquidation  was  at  hand.  I  am  not  given 
much  to  pitying  women,  but  I  did  pity  her.  Had  she  not 
deliberately  chosen  Marshall  Harmon  for  her  husband 
instead  of  his  son  who  had  foolishly  trusted  and  loved 
her?  The  night  papers  were  full  of  the  usual  lying 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        245 

accounts  of  the  '  beaming  happiness  '  of  the  bride  (and 
other — shall  I  say  rot?);  imagined  and  written  for  so 
much  a  line.  Oh,  I  have  no  faith  in  women  of  modern 
society!  They  reject  and  scorn  motherhood.  Their 
purpose  under  God  was  to  be  breeders  of  men,  but  under 
modern  society  they  become  breeders  of  vulgar  vanity. 
The  reception  was  at  the  bride's  new  home,  your  old 
home.  What  money  could  do  to  make  the  occasion  one 
of  garish  splendor  was  done. 

"  In  the  midst  of  the  festivities  your  father  was 
stricken  with  paralysis,  and  now  lies  in  a  darkened 
chamber  unconscious,  unable  to  move  hand  or  foot;  and 
the  doctor  says  the  end  is  not  far  off. 

"  The  next  day  your  father's  bride  sent  for  me.  I 
met  her  in  the  long  music  room.  She  did  not  extend  her 
hand,  but  sank  upon  a  divan  in  evident  woe.  She  knew, 
and  has  known,  my  opinion  of  her  conduct.  It  reached 
her  through  your  brother  Wallace,  who  negotiated  a  large 
loan  for  her  father  at  our  bank.  After  waiting  a  moment 
for  her  to  recover  her  self-possession,  I  asked  her  how 
I  could  serve  her.  She  roused  up  and  said,  '  I  did  not 
send  for  you,  Lionel  Sharpe,  as  a  friend,  but  as  a  man ;  a 
man  whom  I  could  trust.  If  you  never  believed  a  woman 
before,  believe  me  now  in  this  hour  of  my  tribulation.' 
I  made  no  response.  She  continued :  '  I  did  not  know 
until  within  two  hours  of  my  marriage  that  Mr.  Harmon 
had  disinherited  his  son  Jay,  cut  him  off  without  a  dollar 
save  the  little  amount  left  him  by  his  mother.  I  never 


246       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

would  have  wedded  his  father  until  he  had  rectified  this 
great  wrong  had  I  known  it.  When  I  think  of  the  mis 
ery  I  have  caused  that  man  it  makes  me  wretched.  I 
never  shall  forget  his  look  when  I  told  him  that  I 
was  to  marry  his  father.  But  I  did  it  to  save  my  father. 
As  you  know,  real  love  is  something  of  which  our  society 
only  dreams.  Mr.  Sharpe,  can't  I  rectify  this  wrong? 
Can't  the  will  be  changed  before — before ' — then  she 
paused — '  before  Mr.  Harmon  dies  ?  The  doctors  say  he 
cannot  live.  Can't  you  help  me  ?  ' 

"  I  stifled  the  pity  that  I  felt  for  this  latter  day  Aurora. 
She  had  redeemed  herself  somewhat  in  my  estimation. 
She  acknowledged  the  wrong  she  had  done  you,  a  part  of 
which  she  was  innocent  of.  To  make  some  reparation  in 
some  way  seemed  to  be  her  determined  purpose.  I  told 
her  nothing  could  change  the  will  excepting  to  break  it  by 
process  of  law,  and  that  you  would  never  do  that,  I  felt 
certain.  She  asked  for  your  address.  I  told  her  I  did 
not  consider  that  I  had  a  right  to  give  it,  but  might  later. 

"  Now,  stay  where  you  are.  Continue  to  live  the  simple 
life  you  are  living.  You  say  at  the  close  of  your  letter 
there  are  Imogens  there  that  can  ask  '  what  is  it  to  be 
false?  '  It  may  be  so.  May  I  live  to  see  such  a  woman. 
Forgive  me  if  I  have  wounded  you.  Some  day  I  shall 
come  to  the  woods.  To  the  woods !  How  sweet  that 
sounds !  And  yet  the  world  thinks  I  am  a  cold,  unfeeling 
man.  Your  friend,  LIONEL  SHARPE." 


247 

For  some  minutes  after  finishing  the  read 
ing  of  the  letter,  Gould  sat  like  a  statue,  not 
moving  a  muscle,  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  va 
cancy.  He  began  to  realize  that  he  had  almost 
forgotten  the  bitter  past,  and  was  living  a  new 
life  in  which  there  was  promise  and  hope.  In 
work  he  had  found  his  happiness.  And  he  had 
found  more — found  real  friends  that  he 
trusted,  friends  that  trusted  him.  But  now  an 
other  trouble  had  broken  in  upon  the  Elyseum 
of  his  new  and  simple  life.  What  should  he 
do?  The  stricken  father  with  hot  words  of 
anger  had  driven  him  out  of  his  home,  de 
nounced  and  disinherited.  He  had  even  been 
refused  his  father's  name,  as  far  as  it  was  pos 
sible  for  that  father  to  control  the  use  of  it, 
and  out  of  some  strange  regard  for  that  pas 
sionate  wish  he  had  abbreviated  his  own  to 
Jay  Gould,  Gould  being  his  mother's  maiden 
name.  He  could  not  go  back  to  New  York 
and  force  his  unwelcome  presence  upon  the 
family.  His  father  would  not  know  him,  yet 
his  wife  would,  and  certainly  she  had  seared 
the  tablets  of  his  memory  with  such  scornful 


words  that  he  could  not  respect  himself  should 
he  ever  seek  her  presence  again.  It  had 
scarcely  been  three  months  since  he  had  left 
New  York,  with  no  fixed  purpose  save  that  of 
getting  away  from  the  place  where  he  had  suf 
fered  the  utmost  mortification  and  shame. 
Xow,  he  was  in  a  fair  way  to  make  a  living  in 
a  manner  that  suited  him,  namely  service  to  the 
world.  No  word  had  come,  asking  for  his 
presence.  His  love  for  the  proud  Marion  had 
died  out  of  his  heart,  and,  as  he  thought,  left 
it  marble.  He  felt  a  warmer,  kindlier  feeling 
than  ever  before  for  the  common  man,  and  had 
found  rare  virtues  existing  among  the  simple 
folk  of  his  acquaintance.  And  he  had  also 
found  women  that  fulfilled,  to  some  extent, 
his  ideal  of  what  a  woman  should  be  as  a  mother 
and  wife.  Little  Madeline  had  appealed  to 
him  as  a  sweet  and  beautiful  child  of  almost 
angelic  innocence,  and  the  cold  and  stately 
Lois  had  surprised  him  by  the  depth  of  feeling 
and  measureless  unselfishness  that  she  exhib 
ited  so  unconsciously  when  the  money  for  her 
violin  had  been  placed  in  her  hands.  She  had 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        249 

at  times  looked  her  gratitude,  but  had  said 
nothing.  Was  she  capable,  this  cold  beauty, 
of  deep  and  passionate  love?  He  could  not 
think  of  her  possessing  love  except  for  those 
of  her  immediate  family;  but,  like  most  men 
of  his  temperament,  he  was  blind. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

HE  laid  aside  the  letter,  and  prepared 
to  write  one  to  his  friend  Sharpe. 
He  swung  around  to  the  table,  took 
up  the  pen,  and  addressed  the  letter. 

Lionel  Sharpe,  Monroe  Square,  New  York  City. 
DEAR  SIR  AND  FRIEND: 

"How  shall  I  begin  it?"  he  thought.  He 
glanced  up  towards  the  pitching  mirror  just 
above  his  head,  and  to  his  horror  saw  a  form 
at  the  foot  of  his  bed  with  a  raised  club,  moving 
towards  him. 

Quick  as  thought  he  blew  out  the  light  and 
sprang  aside  as  the  weapon  came  down  with  a 
crash  upon  the  table,  breaking  the  lamp  into 
a  hundred  pieces  and  causing  a  din  that  awoke 
every  inmate  of  the  house.  Gould  was  under 
the  shadow  of  the  chimney,  invisible  to  his 
foe.  But  the  faint  light  coming  through 


251 

the  window  plainly  outlined  the  figure  of  the 
would-be  murderer.  Gould  made  up  his 
mind  to  act  at  once.  The  man  was  standing, 
as  though  dazed.  Gould  sprang  forward, 
clasped  him  around  the  body,  enfolding  his 
arms,  rushed  towards  the  chimney,  with  the 
intention  of  braining  him,  or  at  least  rendering 
him  hors  de  combat.  In  this  he  was  success 
ful,  but  he  had  not  seen  a  second  figure  crouch 
ing  near  the  window.  His  victim  had  fallen, 
nerveless,  from  his  arms,  after  the  contact  with 
the  chimney,  and  he  could  hear  the  movements 
of  some  of  the  family  in  the  main  house;  but 
before  they  could  reach  him  a  blow  from  an 
unseen  hand  smote  him  upon  the  head,  and  he 
fell  unconscious  to  the  floor. 

The  Major  had  heard  the  tumult;  so  had 
Madeline  and  Lois  in  their  chamber  above.  It 
had  been  their  practice  to  leave  a  lighted  lamp 
standing  upon  the  hearth  of  the  fireplace. 
Before  the  Major  could  turn  it  up  Lois  had 
run  downstairs  and  said,  "  Father,  let  me  take 
the  light.  You  take  the  gun  and  go  into  the 
room  and  I'll  follow.  Something  terrible  has 


happened."  They  could  still  hear  some  move 
ment  in  the  room,  and  then  a  window  closed. 
When  the  door  was  opened  they  found  Gould 
lying  in  a  pool  of  his  own  blood  between 
the  fireplace  and  the  bed,  but  alone.  An  old 
hat  was  found,  which  was  afterwards  identified 
as  belonging  to  Jim  Sykes. 

With  the  help  of  Madeline  and  Lois  the 
Major  laid  the  apparently  dead  man  upon  the 
bed.  He  did  not  seem  to  breathe.  Lois  was 
first  to  speak,  and  with  a  voice  hoarse  with 
fear  she  said: 

"  Father,  I  am  going  for  the  doctor.  You 
stay  here.  Don't  leave  mother  and  Madeline. 
I  will  send  the  Squire  and  Mr.  Carter.  I  am 
afraid  Dr.  Finnegan  is  not  at  home.  He  was 
called  to  Greensburg  to-night.  But  I  shall 
find  him.  Don't  speak,  I'm  going.'* 

She  flew  out  of  the  room  and  seizing  a  cloak 
she  threw  it  over  her  shoulders  with  her  hair 
streaming  over  it,  and  her  unstockinged  feet 
gleaming  above  her  black  slippers  as  she  ran 
across  the  room  and  out  of  the  house  into  the 
night. 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        253 

As  she  expected,  Dr.  Finnegan  was  away, 
answering  a  call  at  Greensburg. 

She  went  to  the  Squire's,  and  knowing  that 
his  sleeping  room  was  on  the  first  floor,  she 
easily  awakened  him,  and  briefly  told  him  "what 
had  happened. 

"  I  am  going  for  the  doctor  at  Greensburg. 
You  call  up  Mr.  Fessenden.  He  was  an  old 
soldier  and  knows  something  about  dressing 
wounds;  and  don't  forget  Mr.  Carter  at  the 
hotel." 

She  took  no  notice  of  the  protests  of  the 
Squire,  but  said:  "Don't  follow  me,  but  go  to 
the  house  as  soon  as  possible,"  and  off  she 
started  on  her  lonely  three  miles  run,  towards 
Greensburg. 

She  entered  the  bridge,  and  by  the  dim  light 
at  the  other  end  saw,  to  her  horror,  the  figures 
of  two  men.  She  stepped  to  one  side  and 
screening  herself  between  the  great  uprights, 
with  her  heart  beating  fast  and  her  breath 
nearly  choking  her,  she  waited  developments. 
One  of  the  men  was  saying: 

"  I  can't  carry  ye  another  step,  Bill.     I  jest 


254        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

had  time  to  pull  ye  out  ther  house  before  they 
was  onto  us.  What  did  he  do  to  yer?" 

"  I  guess  my  damn  head  is  broke,  and  I  know 
my  arm  is — it  hangs  like  a  string.  I  can't  take 
another  step." 

"Wall,  I  tell  ye  what  I'll  do;  I'll  help  ye 
down  under  the  bridge,  and  ye  kin  hide  there 
until  they  git  over  the  excitement.  They'll 
sound  the  alarm  pretty  quick,  and  the  whole 
town  will  come  out,  and  they'll  be  sure  to  come 
this  way.  Where's  the  fiddle?" 

"  I  got  it  here.  It's  worth  a  good  cool  thou 
sand,  Sapient  said." 

She  saw  the  two  men  disappear  under  the 
bridge  and  waited  until  one  of  them  re 
appeared  and  started  towards  Greensburg. 
What  should  she  do?  The  doctor  they  must 
have,  but  she  did  not  dare  to  follow  the  man. 
There  was  but  one  thing  to  do :  go  back,  climb 
the  embankment  of  the  railroad,  cross  the 
bridge  and  follow  the  track.  This  she  did, 
treading  the  trembling,  narrow  single  board  in 
the  middle  of  the  bridge.  Had  she  made  a 
false  step  in  the  darkness  and  in  the  night  she 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        255 

would  have  plunged  into  the  rushing  river 
below.  She  sped  on,  on,  through  the  darkness, 
thinking  only  of  the  stricken  man  in  her 
father's  house.  It  began  to  rain  before  she 
reached  Greensburg.  It  poured,  and  she  was 
drenched  to  the  skin.  Near  the  outskirts  of 
the  town  the  railroad  crosses  the  highway.  She 
left  it,  and  followed  the  road,  over  which  she 
knew  the  doctor  must  come  on  his  return. 
Suddenly  she  descried  the  figure  of  a  man 
ahead  of  her.  She  sank  down  where  she  stood, 
but  in  another  moment,  to  her  joy,  she  heard  a 
carriage  coming  towards  her,  and  soon  the 
bull's-eye  of  the  dasher  lantern,  which  the  doc 
tor  always  used  in  the  night,  came  in  sight,  and 
in  a  few  moments  was  nearly  opposite  where 
she  stood. 

"Doctor!  Doctor!"  she  cried  in  faint  tones, 
that  she  tried  to  make  loud,  "  Doctor! " 

"  Who  the  devil  are  you? " 

"  Lois,  Lois !    Don't  you  know  me,  doctor? " 

"  In  faith,  I  thought  it  was  the  ghost  of  me 
mother-in-law !  Has  the  divil  flown  away  with 
vez?  Get  in,  and  tell  me  all  about  it.  By  the 


256        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

powers,  you  are  as  wet  as  a  mop!  I'll  not 
breathe  again  till  you  tell  me  that  it's  not  crazy 
you  are." 

The  strain  on  Lois  had  been  terrible.  When 
she  found  herself  in  the  carriage  with  the  doc 
tor,  and  safe,  it  was  only  by  a  supreme  effort 
that  she  kept  from  fainting. 

"Can't  you  speak?     Are  yez  froze  dumb?" 

"  Give  me  a  moment,  doctor.  Something 
terrible  has  happened." 

"Well,  something  terrible  will  happen  if  you 
don't  get  those  wet  clothes  off." 

"Oh,  don't  mind  me,  doctor,  but  hurry,  I 
will  tell  you;"  and  as  rapidly  as  possible,  she 
recited  what  had  taken  place  at  Sunny  Point. 
Before  she  was  halfway  through  the  doctor 
was  putting  "  Bluestreak  "  over  the  road  at  a 
surprising  gait.  He  stopped  for  a  moment 
at  his  office,  equipped  himself  with  such  instru 
ments,  bandages,  etc.,  as  he  thought  he  would 
need,  and  hurried  to  the  bed  of  the  stricken 
man. 

The  next  morning  they  found  the  heading 
of  the  letter  to  Lionel  Sharpe,  and  Carter 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        257 

sent  a  dispatch  to  that  address  so  urgent  that 
Sharpe  started  from  New  York  on  the  first 
train  for  Falling  Water. 

Lois  thought  of  the  scene  on  the  bridge,  and 
told  Carter  what  she  had  heard  and  seen  the 
night  before.  They  found  Sykes  just  alive. 
He  was  taken  to  Greensburg,  and  before  he 
died  made  a  confession,  implicating  Sapient  in 
the  scheme  to  rob  Gould  and  get  possession 
of  the  violin  and  at  the  same  time  compass  their 
revenge. 

The  violin  box  was  empty,  but  the  instru 
ment  was  safe,  though  for  some  time  the  family 
accounted  it  lost. 

The  night  following  Gould  showed  some 
signs  of  returning  consciousness;  but  the  doc 
tor  had  said  that  the  watchers  must  not  talk  to 
him  if  he  became  conscious.  "  Let  him  speak 
first,"  he  said.  "I  think  he  will  live.  The 
surgeon  from  Bangor  says  he's  young  and  in 
splendid  condition,  physically,  and  that  the 
trepanning  operation  has  not  exhausted  him." 

During  the  night  following  the  assault  and 
robbery  Gould  became  conscious.  It  was 


258       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

some  time  before  he  could  recall  what  had  hap 
pened,  but  slowly,  piece  by  piece,  he  patched  it 
out.  In  a  rocking  chair  near  his  bed  he  could 
see  by  the  dim  light  of  the  green-shaded  lamp, 
the  form  of  a  woman.  The  light  was  too  dun 
for  him  to  see  who  it  was.  He  did  not  realize 
that  he  moved,  or  had  given  any  evidence  of 
consciousness,  but  the  figure  suddenly  arose 
and  bent  over  him.  He  could  feel  the  soft 
garments  touch  his  face;  then  lower  and  lower 
sank  the  head  above  him  until  upon  his  fore 
head  he  felt  the  soft  pressure  of  a  woman's 
lips,  which  lingered  lovingly  a  moment,  but 
there  was  no  kiss  then,  the  lips  merely  lingering 
a  moment,  and  then  a  low  voice  murmured: 
"  My  hero.  My  hero !  "  and  he  knew  it  was 
Lois.  Then  she  sank  into  a  chair  and  assumed 
the  attitude  of  a  watcher. 

Gould's  hand  lay  extended  upon  the  count 
erpane.  Soon  he  felt  a  soft  hand  clasp  it. 
The  touch  thrilled  him.  It  was  a  revela 
tion  deeper  and  stronger  than  words.  It 
opened  before  him  the  book  of  a  woman's  heart. 
He  was  too  wise  not  to  know  and  fully  realize 


JAY   GOULD    HARMON       259 

that  this  was  love ;  that  there  had  come  to  him 
without  his  knowing  or  seeking  the  rich  gift 
of  this  girl's  affection.  There  was  a  strange 
ecstacy  in  his  heart.  He  could  not  understand 
it.  Did  he  love  her?  No,  he  never  could  love 
a  woman  again.  He  had  given  one  woman  his 
love  and  she  had  scorned  it.  No  other  wroman 
should  fling  it  in  his  face  again.  And  yet  this 
self -deluded  man  fell  into  sleep,  hypnotized 
into  happiness  by  the  soft  touch  of  a  woman's 
hand  whose  dumb  love  had  spoken  through 
"  Psyche's  great  secretary." 

When  morning  came  Gould  awoke,  and 
the  first  thing  he  noticed  was  a  cheerful  fire 
blazing  on  the  hearth.  The  room  was  homelike. 
He  almost  expected  to  see  the  figure  at  his 
bedside  that  had  appeared  there  in  the  night; 
unless  he  had  been  dreaming.  Was  it  a  dream? 
He  could  not  understand  the  pain  that  it  gave 
him  to  think  it  only  a  dream ;  to  think  that  fair 
lips  pressed  his  brow  and  a  soft  hand  lay  on 
his  but  in  a  dream.  No,  it  was  too  real.  He  had 
not  been  deceived  in  sleep.  The  touch  on  his 
brow  he  could  still  feel,  and  the  gentle  pressure 


260       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

of  the  hand  remained.  She  was  indeed  gentle 
and  beautiful,  far  beyond  any  woman  he  had 
ever  met.  But  her  love  must  not  be  wasted  on 
him.  He  would  not  scorn  it,  but  by  never  see 
ing  her  more  she  would  forget  him. 

All  at  once  he  was  aware  that  someone  was 
sitting  near  the  foot  of  the  bed.  With  some 
effort  he  raised  his  bandaged  head,  and  there, 
in  the  great  ash  chair,  looking  calmly  at  him 
through  his  cold  blue  eyes,  was  Lionel  Sharpe. 


CHAPTER  XV 

A  a  time  just  before  the  opening  of  our 
story,  two  men  sat  quietly  talking  in 
one  of  the  rooms  of  an  exclusive  New 
York  clubhouse.  One  was  about  thirty- 
eight  years  old  and  of  distinguished  appear 
ance.  His  features  were  striking.  The  nose 
was  long  and  thin,  the  eyes  a  cold  blue,  the 
forehead  high  and  calm,  the  chin  rather  heavy 
and  long  and  protruding  rather  than  retreat 
ing.  Outwardly  the  manner  of  the  man  was 
self-contained.  There  was  a  stillness  about 
him  that  to  a  careful  observer  suggested  force 
and  power.  One  would  not  select  him  as  a  man 
given  to  philanthropy  or  warm  friendship. 
He  looked  what  he  was,  a  man  of  aristocratic 
birth  and  great  wealth.  He  was  the  head  of 
a  large  banking  institution,  and  was  recognized 
as  a  man  of  unusual  executive  force  and 
ability. 

261 


262        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

His  name  was  Lionel  Sharpe. 

His  companion  was  a  younger  man,  not  as 
distinguished  in  appearance,  but  possessed  of 
a  manly  beauty  that  was  rare  even  in  New 
York.  He  was  tall  and  dark,  with  a  Byronic 
face  and  head  nearly  faultless  in  its  Grecian 
lines.  Over  his  expanded  white  brow  clustered 
short  black  curls,  worn  in  careless  and  natural 
abandon.  The  face  bore  no  traces  of  dissipa 
tion,  but  there  were  signs  of  deep  trouble 
which  seemed  unaccountable  in  one  so  young, 
gifted  with  so  many  manly  attributes. 

"How  long  have  you  known  this?"  Sharpe 
asked. 

"Only  a  few  days,"  replied  the  younger 
man.  "But  like  Hamlet,  'my  prophetic 
soul'  has  whispered  that  which  I  dared  not 
think." 

"Have  you  seen  Miss  Stackpole  since  the 
report  of  your  father's  engagement  to  her  has 
been  confirmed?" 

"  I  saw  her  to-day,"  said  the  young  man  in 
a  voice  so  full  of  pain  that  his  companion 
looked  at  him  with  something  of  pity. 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        263 

Sharpe  said,  "  I  could  have  told  you  some 
thing  of  this  months  ago." 

The  younger  man  looked  inquiringly  into 
the  inscrutable  face  of  his  friend,  then  said, 
"  But  you  did  not.  It  might  have  saved  me 
some  mortification." 

"I  dare  say,"  replied  Sharpe,  "but  I  came 
into  possession  of  certain  facts  through  busi 
ness  relations  with  your  father  and  Mr.  Stack- 
pole.  The  latter  had  arranged  for  a  certain 
amount  of  credit  at  our  bank,  your  father  en 
dorsing  the  paper.  Certain  things  were  said 
which  plainly  indicated  the  relation  which 
these  two  men  expected  to  hold  towards  each 
other.  But  information  so  obtained  is  a  con 
fidential  matter  and  may  not  be  used,  even 
to  warn  a  friend." 

"  Pardon  me.  I  honor  you  for  your  silence." 
He  took  a  long  breath,  then  turned  abruptly 
to  his  friend,  saying : 

"  Sharpe,  I  believe  you  are  the  only  man  in 
this  city  to  whom  I  can  talk  as  to  a  brother, 
asking  advice  and  counsel.  I  have  had  a  ter 
rible  experience  to-day.  I  have  had  my  follies 


264       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

and  my  worthlessness  summed  up  and  flung  in 
my  face  by  the  woman  whom  I  loved. 

"  I  had  seen  my  father  driving  with  her  in 
the  park  many  times,  but  thought  he  was  pay 
ing  a  compliment  to  the  woman  to  whom  his 
son  was  supposed  to  be  engaged;  a  public 
recognition  of  his  future  daughter-in-law. 
Several  times  I  had  met  him  coming  out  of 
her  house.  He  would  bow  and  smile  in  his 
distant  way.  But  it  never  occurred  to  me 
that  my  father  and  I  were  rivals." 

"Had  you  ever  proposed  to  Miss  Stack- 
pole?" 

"  Not  formally,  but  we  had  been  together  so 
much  and  my  intentions  were  so  evident  that  the 
public  associated  our  names  together,  and  the 
common  report  was  that  we  were  engaged.  I 
felt  that  I  was.  I  had  told  her  many  times 
that  I  loved  her,  but  I  had  not  asked  if  she 
loved  me,  nor  had  I  formally  proposed  to  her. 
I  was  waiting  to  be  taken  into  the  law  firm 
of  Mason  &  Mason  before  doing  so.  She 
had  always  been  undemonstrative,  but  often 
when  I  was  playing  the  violin  to  her  accom- 


JAY   GOULD    HARMON       265 

paniment  she  would  look  up  at  me  in  such  a 
way  that  I  thought  I  saw  her  heart  in  her 
eyes." 

"  Jay,"  broke  in  his  friend,  "  she  did  know 
it.  What  everyone  else  knew  she  must  have 
known.  She  did  know.  But  she  is  a  woman, 
a  modern  woman;  a  society  woman;  a  cold, 
heartless,  frivolous,  proud,  vain  thing.  Don't 
shrink  from  those  terms,  Harmon,  I  am 
telling  the  truth.  The  modern  woman  of 
society  is  the  most  soulless  thing  in  the 
universe.  She  is  made  up  of  insincerity, 
pretense  and  pride.  She  loves  nothing  but 
herself.  She  is  barren  by  choice  and  inten 
tion.  One  of  the  Italian  mothers  at  Five 
Points,  with  her  brood  of  strong  and  active 
children,  is  more  to  the  world  than  thousands 
of  these  unnatural  daughters  of  the  rich,  whose 
existence  is  but  a  waste  of  substance  that  other 
wise  might  go  to  feed  and  clothe  the  more 
deserving." 

"You  are  bitter,  Sharpe." 

"  I  know  that  I  am  bitter,  but  I  am  right. 
[You  know  what  woman  has  cost  me.  You 


266        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

know  the  grief  that  entered  into  my  life 
through  woman." 

"I  know;  but  still  I  believe  there  are  noble 
women  in  the  world  yet,  thousands  of  them. 
My  mother  redeems  all  of  those  you  have 
nominated." 

'Your  mother  was  an  exception  for  which 
I  thank  God.  I  believe  there  are  noble  women, 
but  they  are  as  rare  as  angels.  But  may  I 
ask  you,  Jay,  on  the  ground  of  old  friendship, 
to  tell  me  something  of  the  result  of  your 
interview?" 

"  I  believe  the  recital  will  do  me  good. 

"  Miss  Stackpole  met  me  in  the  music  room. 
She  appeared  constrained  and  embarrassed.  I 
advanced  to  take  her  hand,  but  she  stepped 
back,  and  placing  her  hands  behind  her  said: 
'  You  must  not  meet  me  in  this  way,  Mr. 
Harmon,  any  longer.  Have  you  not  heard 
that  I  am  engaged  to  your  father?' 

"I  had  heard  of  course,  but  hoped  it  was 
nothing  but  a  rumor.  I  could  not  believe  it 
was  true.  But  when  I  heard  it  from  her  lips, 
I  sank  into  a  chair  and  for  a  moment  it  seemed 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        267 

as  though  the  world  had  faded  out  of  sight.  I 
must  have  looked  as  I  felt,  for  she  came 
quickly  to  my  side  and  said : 

"'Jay!  Jay!  Don't  look  that  way!  You 
frighten  me.  Are  you  sick?  Let  me  get  you 
a  glass  of  wine.' 

"  She  came  with  the  wine,  but  I  put  it  aside. 
You  know  how  we  both  hate  mock  heroics.  I 
did  try  to  bear  myself  calmly,  and  to  say  no 
foolish  or  bitter  things.  But  as  the  sense  of 
my  wrongs  rushed  over  me,  and  I  realized  how 
I  had  been  deceived,  misled,  how  I  was  about 
to  become  the  butt  of  ridicule  in  society, 
laughed  at  for  my  stupidity  and  blind  love, 
and  bitterest  of  all,  the  thought  that  my  proud 
old  father  was  the  successful  man,  there  arose 
in  me  such  a  feeling  of  bitterness  and  anger 
that  I  said  to  her: 

"'Miss  Stackpole,  I  have  heard  such  a 
rumor,  but  could  not  conceive  that  it  was  true. 
Will  you  tell  me  the  price  of— 

"  I  got  no  further.  She  sprang  towards  me 
like  a  tigress,  her  eyes  blazing. 

"'The   price!      The   price,   you — nothing. 


268       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

The  price  is  a  man.  A  strong  man,  a  great 
man,  a  man  whom  the  world  hears  of,  a  man 
who  is  at  the  head  of  mighty  things,  a  man  that 
any  woman  should  be  proud  to  wed.  But 
who  are  you?  Have  you  done  anything  in 
this  world  but  dance,  smile,  and  play  the  vio 
lin?  Why,  the  very  shoes  upon  your  feet,  the 
ring  upon  your  finger,  the  diamond  you  wear, 
the  clothes  upon  your  back,  the  gloves  in  your 
hand,  the  bread  which  you  eat,  and  the  bed  in 
which  you  sleep,  were  paid  for  by  the  man  I 
shall  marry.  You  have  talked  of  love,  like  a 
silly  boy,  at  times,  as  though  you  did  not  know 
that  love  is  not  for  people  in  our  caste.  We 
have  other  things.  This  love  is  for  the  poor. 
It  makes  up  to  them  something  for  the  pov 
erty  they  endure.  I  have  no  use  for  love. 
Your  father  possesses  every  quality  that  I 
seek  in  a  man:  wealth,  name,  power,  and  in 
fluence. 

'  Now  go !  May  you  never  so  insult  another 
woman.' 

"And  with  her  head  up  and  eyes  flashing 
she  pointed  to  the  door. 


The  price  is  a  man.      A  strong  man,  a  great  man 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        269 

"  Somehow  I  found  my  way  to  the  hall.  In 
the  little  alcove  parlor,  to  my  utter  mortifica 
tion  and  shame,  sat  my  father,  smiling  as  he 
said,  with  sarcasm  and  irony  in  his  voice: 

'  Come  to   my  private  office  about  nine 
o'clock  to-morrow  night.' 

"  I  found  my  way  out  of  the  house.  How, 
I  don't  know.  I  came  here,  met  you,  and 
have  unburdened  myself.  Your  patience 
surprised  me.  You  honor  me  with  your  atten 
tion.  My  eyes  have  been  opened.  Miss 
Stackpole  has  read  me  a  lesson  for  which  I 
should  be  profoundly  thankful.  I  see  my 
self  as  others  see  me.  I  shall  meet  my  father 
in  no  spirit  of  revenge.  He  has  fairly  won 
Miss  Stackpole  on  her  own  ground.  He  un 
derstood  it  better  than  I.  But  I  am  through 
with  this  purposeless  life.  The  ten  thousand 
a  year  given  me  by  my  father  to  live  on  has 
nearly  ruined  me.  I  have  an  education  that 
is  practical.  As  you  know,  I  always  hated 
office  life.  I  studied  technology  against  the 
will  and  wish  of  my  father,  who  wanted  me  to 
go  into  his  office  and  learn  the  business.  This 


270        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

I  did  not  do,  but  graduated  at  Troy,  and 
spent  two  years  at  Stevens  Institute  studying 
mechanics.  I  am  capable  of  making  a  living 
and  now  I  am  going  to  do  it." 

Sharpe  had  listened  with  great  interest  to 
the  account  of  his  friend's  interview  with  Miss 
Stackpole.  There  were  times  during  its  re 
cital  when  his  impassive  face  took  on  an 
expression  of  anger,  and  would  then  lapse  into 
its  usual  calm.  When  Jay  had  finished  his 
story,  and  declared  his  intention  to  settle  down 
to  work,  Sharpe  arose  and  extended  his  hand, 
saying : 

"Jay,  what  you  have  conceived  to  be  your 
misfortune  I  prophesy  is  to  be  the  making 
of  you.  Emerson  has  said,  '  There  is  a  fatal 
gap  in  human  energy,  that  which  lies  between 
knowing  and  doing.'  You  will  pardon  me 
when  I  say  that  I  never  questioned  your 
knowledge,  but  I  have  feared  that  you  have 
lacked  a  motive  to  do.  I  have  given  but  few 
men  my  confidence.  You  are  among  the  few. 
You  have  suffered  from  the  folly  of  love,  but 
it  was  an  honest  love.  I  have  known  many 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        271 

young  men  of  wealth  and  education  who  have 
suffered  their  blood  to  become  poisoned,  their 
bones  rotted,  their  life  and  energy  wasted, 
because  they  started  in  life  with  an  idea  that 
they  owned  the  world  because  they  could  buy 
many  pleasures  it  offers.  These  ciphers  of 
humanity  you  can  meet  on  Broadway  by  the 
score,  night  or  day.  You  have  escaped  this 
folly.  Your  days  of  dissipation  were  few." 

"But  they  were  too  many,"  replied  his  com 
panion,  and  then  said:  "  Sharpe,  I  cannot 
understand  why  I  have  been  selected  by  you 
as  a  friend  and  confidant.  You  are  reputed 
to  be  a  man  of  very  few  intimates,  a  proud  and 
rather  cold  man,  given  to  the  highest  phil 
osophy  of  life,  and  leaving  the  sentiment  of 
affection  and  love  out  of  your  existence.  I 
know  this  is  an  unjust  estimate  of  your  char 
acter,  for  I  know  what  your  friendship  means 
to  any  man  fortunate  enough  to  possess  it." 

Sharpe's  glance  wandered  to  the  picture  of 
a  famous  actress,  hanging  on  the  wall  of  the 
room,  and  he  said,  "  You  have  forgotten  that 
there  are  two  of  us.  You  have  forgotten,  I 


272        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

hope,  that  terrible  night  at  sea,  on  the  Ocean- 
ica,  when  my  poor  boy  brother  suddenly  kissed 
me,  and  said  'Good-by,  Lionel,'  and  before 
any  one  could  prevent  him  sprang  over  the 
side  of  the  ship  into  the  sea.  You  leaped  after 
him  almost  as  soon  as  he  went  over  the  side,  and 
saved  him. 

"  He  was  my  favorite  brother — the  brother 
who  was  left  to  me  by  my  dying  mother  to  care 
for  and  protect  while  I  lived !  Eighteen  years 
my  junior,  he  was  more  a  son  than  a  brother, 
and  I  had  watched  over  his  education,  saw  the 
budding  of  genius  in  him,  and  noted  with  pride 
that  a  great  artist  had  been  born  to  the  world. 
Then  came  a  woman,  a  beautiful,  brazen, 
heartless,  remorseless  woman,  into  our  quiet 
life.  I  read  her  as  a  book.  She  knew  her 
power  over  that  boy.  and  when  I  asked  her 
to  name  the  price  for  which  she  would  consent 
to  spare  him,  she  laughed  in  my  face.  She 
said :  *  I  have  no  price,  except  revenge.  You 
made  me  suffer,  and  now  I'll  make  you  suffer.' 
She  did.  I  tried  to  reason  with  Herbert,  but 
he  would  not  listen,  I  told  hi  171  how  infamous 


JAY    GOULD    HARMOX       273 

she  was,  and  said  that  I  could  prove  it,  and  he 
replied,  '  Lionel,  I  shall  hate  you  if  you  set  a 
watch  upon  this  woman  whom  I  love.  What 
if  she  is  older  than  I,  what  do  I  care?  She  is 
beautiful  and  good,  and  she  loves  me.  If  you 
want  to  ruin  my  life,  destroy  my  genius  and 
ambition,  you  could  not  more  surely  do  it  than 
to  slander  her.'  What  was  I  to  do?  I  saw 
she  had,  like  a  serpent,  wound  her  slimy  folds 
around  him  and  that  he  could  not  escape;  but 
what  persuasion  and  argument  and  love  could 
not  do  an  accident  did.  He  found  her  in  the 
arms  of  one  of  the  most  notorious  roues  in 
society,  and  his  eyes  were  cruelly  opened. 
Xever  shall  I  forget  the  expression  of  his 
face  when  he  came  to  my  room  and  fell  upon 
a  couch  in  a  paroxysm  of  grief.  I  tried  to 
soothe  him.  When  he  had  recovered  himself 
somewhat,  he  said,  'Lionel,  go  away  with  me 
somewhere.  I  can't  live  in  the  city  where  she 
is,  where  I  may  meet  her.'  And  so  we  started, 
and  you  accompanied  us.  We  tried  to  cheer 
him  up.  He  would  sit  and  listen  to  your 
playing  by  the  hour;  it  seemed  to  be  his  one 


274       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

solace.  But  all  the  time  the  poor  child  was 
thinking  of  her.  He  thought  he  could  not 
live  without  her.  He  would  have  died  before 
my  eyes  had  not  a  brave  soul  sprung  over 
the  ship's  side  to  the  rescue  of  my  brother." 

"My  friend,  don't  harass  your  soul  with  a 
rehearsal  of  that  terrible  hour.  I  beg  you  to 
remain  quiet,"  said  Jay. 

"  I  am  answering  your  question.  What  an 
act  was  that !  Think  what  it  means  for  one  to 
find  himself  in  mid-ocean,  burdened  with  the 
body  of  an  unconscious  man,  while  more  than 
a  mile  away  stood  out  in  the  dim  light  the  black 
hulk  of  the  ship!  Imagination  cannot  con 
ceive  of  a  man  making  a  greater  sacrifice  for 
another  man  than  that.  The  boy  was  saved, 
and  he  lived  a  few  years  more,  to  be  the  solace 
of  my  life,  until  he  died  in  my  arms.  And  you 
ask  me  why  Lionel  Sharpe  has  for  Jay  Gould 
Harmon  an  unusual  interest." 

Sharpe  continued:  "  I  want  you  to  leave  this 
city.  I  am  persuaded  it  will  do  you  good  to 
get  away  from  all  your  old  haunts  and  friends. 
Meet  your  father  in  the  spirit  of  a  man,  and 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON       275 

remember  that  if  you  need  a  friend  I  want  the 
privilege  of  being  that  friend.  Come  to  me 
before  leaving." 

Jay  Harmon's  father  did  not  wait  until  the 
next  night  to  interview  his  son,  but  called  him 
into  the  library  in  the  morning.  He  sat  at 
his  desk,  and  laying  a  check-book  before  him, 
with  his  face  averted  began  by  saying : 

"After  what  took  place  last  night,  Jay, 
there  will  be  no  need  of  my  referring  to  the 
matter  of  my  approaching  marriage  with  Miss 
Stackpole." 

"I  thank  you  for  being  so  considerate." 
"  I  thought  she  was  unnecessarily  hard  on 
you,  Jay,  and  I  told  her  so." 

"  Spare  me,  sir,  your  commiserations." 
"Well,  Jay,  you  have  the  least  good  sense  of 
any  man  I  ever  saw.  -Just  as  I  was  beginning 
to  feel  a  fatherly  regard  for  your  rather 
awkward  situation,  and  ventured  to  show  it, 
you  cut  me  off  by  an  unfortunate  remark;  the 
same  kind  of  an  unfortunate  remark  that 
brought  the  wrath  of  Miss  Stackpole  down 
upon  your  head." 


276       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

"Miss  Stackpole  told  me  the  truth.  She 
showed  me  plainly  what  I  am — that  I  am 
nothing;  that  I  owe  everything  to  you,  which 
is  true;  but  I  do  not  propose  to  be  a  burden 
upon  you  any  longer." 

"What  are  you  going  to  do!" 

"  I  am  going  to  work." 

"What  at?" 

"  Well,  I  may  dig  post  holes.  I  may  shovel 
in  a  gravel  pit,  but,  having  an  education,  which 
I  have  to  thank  you  for,  I  shall  try  to  get 
employment  where  I  can  use  that  education." 

"  Have  you  forgotten,"  said  his  father, 
"that  there  is  something  due  to  me?  Do  you 
suppose  that  I  propose  to  have  my  son  hack 
ing  around  the  country  for  work?  No,  sir. 
You  will  do  as  I  want  you  to  do  or  you  will  go 
out  of  this  room  disowned  and  disinherited, 
without  a  dollar  in  your  pocket,  save  that  worth 
less  copper  stock  and  a  few  thousand  dollars 
left  by  your  mother.  Your  brother,  Wallace, 
has  always  done  what  he  could  to  please  his 
father.  You  have  done  everything  you  could 
to  displease  him." 


JAY   GOULD    HARMON       277 

"Possibly,"  replied  Jay  bitterly,  "if  I  had 
forged  your  check  for  $25,000,  and,  in  a 
drunken  frenzy,  in  a  public  place,  cursed  your 
penuriousness,  you  might  have  a  higher  regard 
for  me.'* 

The  father  replied,  with  equal  bitterness, 
"  Another  of  your  unfortunate  remarks.  But 
let  me  say  I  did  not  call  you  in  here  to  quarrel, 
but  to  have  a  plain  understanding  with  you. 
For  the  sake  of  briefness  we  will  put  it  upon 
a  business  ground,  and  upon  your  answer  will 
depend  whether  you  are  any  longer  to  hold 
the  relation  of  son  to  me.  I  am  not  accus 
tomed  to  being  thwarted  by  anyone,  much  less 
by  my  son.  Now,  start  with  this  understand 
ing:  I  desire  that  you  pay  attention  at  once  to 
Mrs.  Claypool.  She  is  a  bright  and  attrac 
tive  widow,  not  over  forty  years  of  age. 
Don't  rise.  Sit  and  listen  to  the  end.  I 
have  paid  her  some  attention,  and  have  written 
a  few  foolish  letters.  I  never  had  a  serious 
idea  of  marrying  her,  but  her  life  and  vivacity 
attracted  me.  It  appears  that  Mrs.  Claypool 
thought  that  I  purposed  to  marry  her,  and  there 


are  some  things  in  my  letters  that  might  be 
construed  as  a  proposal.  But  after  I  met 
Miss  Stackpole  I  lost  all  interest  in  the  dashing 
widow." 

Harmon  noticed  his  son  wince  at  his  men 
tion  of  Marion  Stackpole,  but  he  continued : 

"  I  have  tried  to  get  possession  of  those  let 
ters,  and  have  asked  her  to  name  the  price  she 
would  take  for  them.  '  Oh !  It's  not  money  I 
want,  Mr.  Harmon,'  she  said,  'it  is  the  man. 
You  are  what  is  good.'  And  this  really 
charming  woman  laughed  in  my  face.  I  have 
known  for  a  long  time  that  she  has  regarded 
you  with  great  favor,  and  has  often  said  to 
me  that  you  are  the  handsomest  man  she  ever 
saw  and  that  if  she  were  a  younger  woman  she 
certainly  would  fall  in  love  with  you. 

"  Now,  it  has  occurred  to  me — and  remem 
ber,  sir,  this  is  purely  business — that  you  can 
help  me  out  of  an  embarrassing  situation  by 
apparently  cutting  me  out,  as  I  have  you,  and 
proposing  to  Mrs.  Claypool,  and  marrying  her 
or  not  as  you  may  please.  You  have  only  to 
make  her  think  that  you  are  in  earnest  until 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        279 

such  a  time  as  I  can  marry  Miss  Stackpole,  and 
get  possesion  of  the  letters  through  your  good 
management. 

"This  is  what  I  will  pay  you  for  the  job: 
If  you  are  successful  in  this  matter  and  really 
marry  the  woman,  I  will  buy  you  a  home  suit 
able  for  a  son  of  Marshall  Harmon,  allow  you 
$20,000  a  year,  and  give  you  a  sinecure  posi 
tion  in  my  railroad  offices.  If  you  secure  the 
letters,  and  draw  Mrs.  ClaypooFs  attention  to 
yourself  until  she  is  willing  to  throw  me  over 
and  I  have  secured  Miss  Stackpole  as  my 
wife,  I  will  give  you  $50,000,  and  some  posi 
tion  on  the  road.  Do  you  understand?  I  am 
trying  to  be  explicit." 

His  son  gazed  at  him  in  astonishment,  and 
finally  hoarsely  whispered:  "Infamous!  In 
famous!  And  my  father!" 

" Do  I  understand  you  aright,  sir?  Do  you 
refuse  to  do  this?" 

"I  do.  A  thousand  times  I  refuse.  Do 
you  realize  what  you  have  said  to  me?  The 
infamy  of  the  proposition!  Is  it  possible  that 
you  think  I  am  such  a  hound  as  to  con- 


280        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

sent  to  such  a  damnable  act?  Can  it  be 
that  you  are  my  father?  Are  you  the  man 
whose  name  is  supposed  to  be  a  synonym  for 
honor  and  integrity?  My  God,  father,  you 
can't  be  in  earnest!  Ask  me  to  do  anything 
within  human  reason  and  I  will  do  it,  but  don't 
ask  me  to  do  that  which  only  a  man  lost  to 
every  sense  of  honor  would  think  of  doing. 
You  can't  be  in  earnest !  You  are  only  trying 
me.  Say  so,  father,  that  you  are  only  trying 
me." 

The  father  whirled  on  him,  his  face  purple 
with  rage,  and  said:  "I  never  was  more  in 
earnest  in  my  life.  I  have  only  asked  you  to 
do  a  very  common  and  usual  thing  in  society, 
and  you  read  me  a  lesson  in  morals  and  ethics ! 
You  call  it  infamy.  You  ungrateful  dog! 
You  would  face  me  down,  and  class  me  with 
the  lowest  of  the  low.  You  never  were  a  nat 
ural  son.  Your  love  all  went  to  your  mother. 
You  never  cared  to  please  me.  You  have  set 
yourself  across  my  will  many  times,  but  you 
have  done  it  to-day  for  the  last  time.  Now 
leave  this  house!  Take  what  you  please  that 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON       281 

I  have  given  you,  as  Miss  Stackpole  truly  says, 
but  go,  and  I  never  want  to  see  your  face 
again.  It  is  hateful  to  me;  as  hateful  as  it 
was  to  Marion. 

"Jacob,"  he  called  to  his  valet,  "this  man  is 
no  longer  my  son.  Take  his  night  key,  and 
never  admit  him  into  this  house. 

"Now  go,  sir!  Show  him  out,  Jacob.  As 
I  have  said,  what  there  is  in  your  room  you  can 
have." 

Jacob  looked  distressed.  Jay  had  always 
been  his  idol.  He  advanced  to  his  young  mas 
ter,  saying:  "Shall  I  go  with  you  to  your 
room  and  help  you  pack,  sir?" 

:<  There  is  nothing  there,  Jacob,  that  is  mine. 
All  has  been  paid  for  by  Mr.  Harmon.  Here 
is  my  latch-key.  Good-by,  Jacob,"  and  press 
ing  the  old  man's  hand,  he  walked  blindly 
out  of  the  house. 

The  streets  were  thronged  with  people,  but 
to  him  they  were  empty.  The  great  mansions 
reared  their  proud  fronts  on  either  side,  but  he 
saw  them  not.  To  get  away  from  this  mael 
strom  of  pride  and  heartlessness  was  his  only 


282       JAY   GOULD    HARMON 

purpose.  He  thought  of  the  woods,  of  the 
pure,  quiet  woods,  where  one  lost  in  their  soli 
tude  might  rest  and  think,  far  from  the  mad 
dening  crowd. 

Once  more  he  called  upon  Sharpe,  and  told 
him  the  story,  sparing  his  father  wherever  he 
could. 

Sharpe  said :  "  I  think  the  last  link  is  broken 
that  bound  you  to  inaction  and  purposeless 
life.  Go  out  and  fight. 

"  Has  it  occurred  to  you  that  you  have  said 
nothing  as  to  your  plans  or  purposes  for  the 
future — where  you  are  going,  etc.  ?  It  may  be 
very  necessary  to  reacli  you.  Something  might 
happen,  you  know."  There  was  a  significant 
inflexion  in  Sharpe's  voice  as  he  spoke  the  con 
cluding  words,  and  Harmon  was  touched  by 
Sharpe's  insistent  and  unselfish  interest  in  his 
welfare. 

"  It  was  my  intention  to  burden  you  no 
longer  with  my  stupid  affairs.  Your  good 
offices  I  have  already  overtaxed.  Yet  I  shall  be 
comforted  to  know  that  there  is  one  to  whom  I 
can  cling.  One  who  has  some  faith  in  me.  You 


JAY   GOULD    HARMON       283 

encourage  me  to  say — that  while  I  have  no 
plans  I  do  have  a  purpose. 

"I  am  well  aware  that  my  life  so  far  has 
been  a  failure.  The  time  spent  in  acquiring 
an  education  was  well  spent,  all  the  rest  lost. 
I  have  sense  enough  remaining  to  understand 
that  contentment  and  happiness  lie  in  serving, 
not  in  being  served.  In  the  future  I  propose 
to  serve.  Ich  dien  is  a  noble  motto.  I  shall 
adopt  it.  Don't  think,  my  friend,  that  I  am 
disgusted  with  life.  I  am  only  impatient  with 
myself.  I  am  almost  happy  over  my  resolu 
tion  to  be  of  some  small  account  yet  in  this 
wide-awake  world  where  drones  like  myself 
are  an  incumbrance." 

"Bravo!  Bravo!"  cried  Sharpe.  "I  always 
felt  that  if  the  right  sort  of  an  earthquake 
should  shake  you  up  you  would  show  that  a 
rich  man's  son  need  not  necessarily  be  a  rich 
man's  misfortune.  Where  are  you  going  to 
begin  this  renaissance,  so  to  speak?" 

Harmon  thought  a  moment   and  replied: 

'You  may  smile  when  I  inform  you  that  I 

am  not  '  going  west,  young  man '  but  east :  to 


284       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

Maine.  I  want  to  go  where  everything  is 
new  and  fresh.  I  am  going  to  the  woods,  the 
grand,  free  woods,  where  one  can  throw  off  all 
the  trammels  of  society  and  build  himself  upon 
his  own  nature  until  he  stands  an  entity,  a  per 
sonality.  I  feel  that  I  shall  find  work  to  my 
liking.  It  may  be  hard  work — even  rough — 
but  I  shall  not  shun  it." 

"  Have  you  any  money,"  asked  his  friend 

"  ready  money? " 

"  Enough  for  the  present.  I  am  going  to 
bend  down  to  hard  work  by  first  taking  a  long 
tramp  along  the  great  river.  Some  of  my 
friends  have  hunted  in  that  country,  making 
the  little  town  of  Falling  Water  their  base. 
My  mailing  point  for  the  present  will  be  Fall 
ing  Water.  Don't  forget,  should  you  have 
occasion  to  write,  to  address  me  as  Jay  Gould." 

Before  the  friends  parted  finally  Lionel 
Sharpe  said : 

"  I  have  two  commissions  to  put  into  your 
hands.  One  is  my  old  fad.  If  you  should,  by 
the  wildest  chance,  discover  a  violin  of  great 
merit  secure  it  for  me  at  any  price.  I  have 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        285 

four  genuine  old  instruments  and  I  want  more. 
There  is  no  man  whose  judgment  I  would 
sooner  trust  than  yours.  There  is  another 
thing,  and  I  almost  blush  to  mention  it:  I  am 
really  desirous  of  doing  some  great  good.  I 
am  not  capable  of  open  charity,  but  if  you 
should  find  an  opportunity  where  some  of  my 
money  would  do  great  good  to  any  com 
munity,  where  it  would  help  to  make  better 
citizens,  better  men  and  women,  make  known 
this  opportunity  to  me,  and,  if  it  takes  a  million 
dollars  I  will  not  hesitate  to  do  it." 


CHAPTER  XVI 

S  soon  as  Sharpe  saw  that  his  friend 
recognized  him,  he  went  to  the  bed 
side  and  clasping  Jay's  hand  said: 

"  My  boy,  I've  come." 

Gould  responded  to  the  hand  clasp,  and 
said  in  a  faint  voice: 

"It  is  very  good  of  you." 

"  Xot  at  all,  Jay.  Don't  you  remember  my 
last  words  to  you?  You  must  not  allow  any 
other  man  to  take  my  place.  I  may  be  foolish 
enough  to  be  jealous.  You  know  I  have 
neither  father  nor  mother,  sister  nor  brother. 
You  come  very  near  being  kindred." 

The  cold  face  of  Sharpe  was  visibly  softened 
as  he  bent  over  his  stricken  friend.  Jay's  heart 
was  touched.  He  thought  how  mistaken  the 
world  was  in  its  estimate  of  this  man,  usually 
so  reticent,  so  sparing  of  speech.  Yet  here 
he  stood  with  something  like  moisture  in  his 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        287 

eyes,  talking  with  the  freedom  of  an  elder 
brother.  What  would  his  Xew  York  friends 
have  thought  to  have  seen  this  possessor  of 
millions  standing  in  that  log  room  adminis 
tering  words  of  comfort  in  the  gentlest  tones 
and  simplest  manner  to  a  man  that  society  had 
pronounced  lost  to  its  world! 

"You  must  not  talk.  Let  me  do  the  talk 
ing,"  began  Sharpe.  'You'll  want  to  know 
how  I  heard  of  your  trouble,  when  I  came, 
where  I  am  stopping,  and  if  I  am  comfortable, 
etc.  Xow  for  categorical  answers:  Your 
friend  Carter,  whom  I  once  met,  wired  for  me 
to  come.  Ke  met  me  at  the  train,  and  with 
him  were  Squire  Gray  and  your  Major.  We 
became  acquainted  at  once.  Dropping  all 
ceremony,  the  fine  old  Squire  told  me  that  I 
was  to  go  to  his  home,  the  public  house  being 
full.  'The  spare  room,'  as  he  calls  it,  was 
placed  at  my  disposal,  and  it  is  very  comfort 
able.  Rather  old-fashioned,  with  its  low  ceil 
ing  and  rag  carpet,  but  they  keep  a  fire  burn 
ing  in  the  fireplace,  and  the  room,  with  its 
dimitv  curtains  and  old-fashioned  windows,  is 


288        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

entirely  to  my  liking.  The  breakfast  was  also 
satisfactory.  Mrs.  Porter  and  daughter  showed 
me  every  courtesy,  and  more  than  delighted 
me  by  not  appearing  the  least  flurried  by 
my  unexpected  presence.  Your  Squire  is  a 
wholesome  man.  The  Major  I  have  seen  but 
little.  Your  other  prodigies  I  shall  meet  by 
and  by.  The  doctor  says  you  are  quite  sure 
to  recover.  Don't  trouble  yourself  about  my 
entertainment.  The  Major,  and  a  certain 
Jim  Gramme,  who  figured  at  the  Falls,  are  to 
give  me  a  canoe  trip  up  the  river.  If  the 
water  is  high  enough  we  will  go  as  far  as 
Grand  Falls.  Yes,  I  like  it  here.  The  situ 
ation  of  this  log  house  would  delight  a  prince. 
I  have  met  Mrs.  Crosby  and  Miss  Madeline. 
"  I  am  going  to  the  lake  for  a  walk.  These 
suggestive  paths  back  of  the  house  leading  to 
the  woods  hint  at  mysteries  that  I  must  solve. 
You  see,  I  have  grown  a  talker;  the  woods  are 
responsible.  Rest  quietly.  Think  of  me  as 
having  just  the  entertainment  I  could  most 
desire.  The  doctor  says  that  in  a  week  you 
will  be  on  your  feet." 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        289 

He  had  said  nothing  to  his  friend  about  the 
missing  violin.  It  had  been  quite  a  disappoint 
ment  to  him  when  he  learned  that  it  had  been 
stolen,  the  empty  case  having  been  found  under 
the  bridge. 

When  Sharpe  had  ceased  speaking,  Gould 
said,  "  Have  you  seen  your  violin?  " 

"No— no;  not  yet." 

'*  You  must  before  you  go.  It's  up  behind 
those  books.  I  put  it  there  the  night  I  was 
hurt.  I  had  put  on  a  new  set  of  strings  and 
was  gradually  stretching  them.  I  wanted  it 
handy.  The  books  conceal  it,  but  it  is  there." 

Sharpe  rarely  became  excited,  but  on  this 
occasion  he  rushed  to  the  bookcase,  and  finding 
the  violin  carefully  examined  it. 

"  There  is  a  bow  on  the  shelf,"  said  Har 
mon.  "  Try  it." 

Sharpe  was  a  passably  good  player.  He 
sat  down  in  front  of  the  fire,  which  glowed  and 
danced  to  the  music.  For  more  than  an  hour 
he  played,  forgetting  everything  save  the  joy 
he  felt  in  the  possession  of  that  wonderful 
instrument. 


290       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

Finally  the  music  ceased.  The  player 
looked  into  the  fire,  then  glanced  at  the  homely 
comforts  of  the  room,  the  solid  logs,  the  fur- 
covered  floor,  the  glowing  embers,  the  living 
picture  of  a  mountain's  brow  at  one  window 
and  the  silvery  waters  gliding  unceasingly  by 
at  another,  the  soft  prevailing  quietness. 
Everything  was  so  natural,  so  free,  so  restful, 
that  this  man  of  the  world  rose,  and  going  to 
the  bedside,  said: 

"Jay,  I  would  want  to  live  forever  if  I 
could  live  here.  How  poor  we  are  in  great 
cities!  I  never  shall  be  contented  until  I  own 
a  log  house,  have  a  fireplace  like  this,  just  such 
fur  rugs  and  big  ash  chairs,  low  couches,  see 
such  living  pictures  through  my  windows,  hear 
the  waters  run,  and — Look!  Look!  There  are 
two  deer  under  the  window!  How  beautiful 
they  are!  Ah !  Jay,  I  must  have  them  too.  If 
I  live,  before  another  year,  I  will '  abide  me '  in 
a  log  cabin. 

"Did  you  ever  think,  Jay,  that  I  would 
become  so  poetic?  I  begin  to  hope,  even  to 
believe,  that  these  woods  will  do  for  me  what 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON       291 

the  forest  of  Arden  did  not  for  melancholy 
Jaques  but  for  the  banished  Duke : 

And  this  our  lif e,  exempt  from  public  haunt, 

Finds  tongues  in  trees,  books  in  the  running  brooks, 

Sermons  in  stones,  and  good  in  everything.'  " 

The  week  that  followed  was  one  of  unal 
loyed  pleasure  to  Sharpe.  Being  assured  that 
Gould  was  on  the  road  to  certain  recovery, 
that  perfect  quiet  was  what  he  needed,  Sharpe, 
with  the  Major,  Jim  Gramme  and  Lige  Fes- 
senden,  (who  closed  his  shop  to  go),  with  two 
canoes  well  stocked  with  tents  and  supplies, 
started  up  the  river  towards  Chesuncook.  On 
the  way  Lige,  who  was  in  his  best  trim,  told 
the  story  of  Lois  going  to  Greensburg  for  the 
doctor,  on  foot  and  alone  in  the  darkness  and 
rain.  It  lost  nothing  by  the  telling.  He 
pictured  the  narrow  walk  on  the  bridge,  its 
dizzy  height  above  the  water,  the  possible 
crossing  of  the  train  due  about  that  hour,  the 
terrifying  fact  that  the  would-be  murderers 
were  abroad,  that  she  had  seen  them  in  the 
bridge.  All  this  did  not  daunt  her,  but  fear- 


lessly  she  had  made  her  way  through  the  dark 
ness,  climbed  the  steep  embankment,  and 
finally  reached  Greensburg. 

Lige  waxed  eloquent.  The  Major  was  seen 
to  swallow.  When  Lige  had  finished,  Sharpe, 
with  great  gravity,  turned  to  the  Major  and 
said: 

"I  have  not  heard  a  better  story  of  a 
woman's  devotion  and  courage  since,  when  a 
boy,  I  heard  the  account  of  Ida  Lewis's  hero 
ism  in  the  harbor  of  Newport.  Such  a  woman 
should  be  the  mother  of  ten  children  at  least, 
all  boys,"  he  added  grimly,  "  for  the  mother 
decides  the  quality  of  the  man,  be  it  for  good 
or  evil.  I  beg  the  honor  of  meeting  this 
daughter.  Miss  Madeline  I  have  met,  and  at 
your  table  yesterday  noon  I  learned  to  my  sur 
prise  that  everything  had  been  prepared  by  her 
hands,  and  to  my  thinking  it  was  excellently 
done.  Her  serving  was  equally  surprising; 
and  the  thought  occurred  to  me,  Major  Cros 
by,  that  there  is  no  such  thing  as  a  menial  serv 
ice,  except  when  a  menial  spirit  serves.  I  am 
correcting  some  mistaken  ideas  I  have  had  on 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        293 

this  subject.  I  desire,  my  dear  Major,  to  con 
gratulate  you  upon  your  home,  and  the  women 
of  your  home." 

The  Major  never  quite  understood  how 
much  this  meant  from  the  lips  of  Lionel 
Sharpe.  He  explained  to  him  that  Lois  went 
to  Greensburg  in  the  morning  and  returned  at 
night ;  that  she  was  obliged  to  study  her  French 
lessons  diligently  evenings  in  order  to  fill  her 
mother's  place  and  not  lower  the  standard  of 
her  teaching. 

While  in  camp  Sharpe  became  almost  like  a 
boy,  dropping  his  reserve  as  far  as  it  was  pos 
sible  for  him  to  do  so.  He  liked  all  the  men 
in  the  party.  Each  was  a  character,  not  a 
type.  Each  was  a  natural  man,  and  responded 
promptly  to  every  touch  of  nature,  according 
to  his  free  spirit.  The  Major  grew  upon 
Sharpe.  There  were  many  gentle  and  unsel 
fish  acts  which  he  unconsciously  performed 
towards  all  his  friends.  These  were  not  lost 
upon  the  observing  Sharpe,  who  thought  to 
himself  in  the  words  of  Tupper,  'Trifles 
lighter  than  straws  are  levers  in  building  up  a 


294        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

character."  He  had  been  surprised  to  hear  the 
blacksmith,  at  the  close  of  his  account  of  Lois's 
night  adventure,  quote  from  "Much  Ado" 
these  lines: 

"  The  idea  of  her  life  shall  sweetly  creep 
Into  this  study  of  imagination, 
And  every  lovely  organ  of  her  life 
Shall  come   apparell'd   in  more   precious   habit." 

When  they  returned  to  Sunny  Point  they 
found  Gould  sitting  up.  The  doctor  said 
in  another  week  he  could  have  the  bandages 
removed. 

That  night  a  big  fire  was  built  in  the  large 
wing  bedroom  occupied  by  Gould.  The 
Squire  had  "dropped  in"  and  taken  a  seat 
one  side  of  the  hearth.  The  fire  lit  up  the  fine 
old  face,  and  Lionel  Sharpe,  who  sat  in  the 
great  ash  chair  in  the  center,  with  his  long 
limbs  extended  and  an  expression  of  medita 
tive  restfulness  upon  his  face,  was  looking  at 
the  old  man  and  thinking,  "  That  is  one  of  the 
best  faces  I  ever  saw;  a  symbol  of  kindness, 
wisdom  and  honor;  a  face  that  would  never 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        295 

betray."  At  his  left  sat  the  Major,  his  pale 
face  aglow  with  the  spirit  of  hospitality  and 
good  cheer.  All  men  pleased  him,  and  his  life 
seemed  abundant. 

In  the  living  room  sat  Carter.  It  was  his 
last  evening  with  Madeline.  He  was  to  return 
to  Millinocket  the  next  morning,  to  arrange 
for  his  successor.  Gould  had  been  playing 
with  the  violin  muted.  The  last  strains  had 
died  away,  and  there  followed  a  silence  filled 
with  echoes  which  the  soul  alone  can  hear.  A 
stillness  almost  painful  prevailed,  suddenly 
broken  by  Sharpe,  who  asked — and  it  seemed 
strangely  out  of  season — this  question : 

"  Mr.  Gray  and  Mr.  Crosby,  I  wish  you  to 
tell  me  what  you  would  do  for  the  good  of 
mankind  if  you  had  all  the  money  necessary 
at  your  command.  Don't  answer  too  quickly. 
It  is  not  an  idle  question.  I  am  quite  serious." 

The  Major  was  the  first  to  reply:  "Mr. 
Sharpe,  I  have  long  ago  made  up  my  mind 
what  I  would  do." 

"  I  am  very  much  interested  to  know.  Tell 
me  fully." 


296        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

"A  few  years  ago  I  made  a  tour  with  the 
School  Superintendent  of  the  State  through 
the  northern  and  eastern  portions  of  this 
county,  visiting  nearly  every  school.  We 
found  that  in  the  larger  towns  some  of  the 
schoolhouses  were  commodious  and  comfort 
able,  but  in  most  of  the  small  towns  and  planta 
tions  they  were  cold  and  cheerless.  They 
were  generally  a  one-room  affair,  with  no  cel 
lar,  the  foundation  loose  field-stones,  in  many 
cases  a  single-boarded  floor,  and  one  stove  to 
supply  warmth.  When  winter  came  the  cold 
winds  blew  under  the  building  and  upon  the 
feet  and  limbs  of  the  children.  The  snow 
would  sift  through  the  loose  sash  and  broken 
panes  of  the  windows,  chilling  their  bodies  and 
filling  the  schoolhouse  with  discomfort  almost 
amounting  to  misery.  Here  was  laid  in  thou 
sands  of  instances  the  seeds  of  the  dreaded  con 
sumption,  which  has  been  the  scourge  of 
Maine,  as  twenty  per  cent,  of  her  people  die  of 
this  disease.  I  know  these  things  to  be  true, 
because  I  have  experienced  them.  Besides, 
in  these  dreary  rooms  there  was  no  cheer,  no 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        297 

pictures,  no  animating  colors,  no  conveniences, 
no  means  of  entertaining  the  scholars  while 
being  instructed,  no  interesting  apparatus  to 
illustrate  the  simple  sciences, — nothing  but  a 
bare  room  with  a  shivering  teacher  and  suffer 
ing  children.  Had  I  the  means,  I  would  try 
to  do  on  a  humbler  scale  what  Andrew  Car 
negie  is  doing  on  a  great  scale;  supply  warm, 
tastefully-built,  commodious  schoolhouses  for 
the  children  of  these  poor  towns.  There 
should  be  something  of  beauty  about  them 
in  form  and  structure  that  would  suggest 
to  the  impressionable  minds  their  noble  pur 
pose.  They  should  have  grace  and  strength. 
They  should  have  conveniences  and  comforts 
to  promote  health,  not  destroy  it.  They  should 
be  supplied  with  the  best  magazines  and 
papers,  and  from  these  reading  exercises 
should  be  selected.  Globes,  maps,  and  simple 
apparatus  to  illustrate  the  common  sciences, 
might  be  added. 

"It  is  borne  in  upon  me  that  in  no  way 
could  a  rich  man  spend  his  money  to  do  greater 
good,  supply  a  greater  need,  and  bless  not  only 


298       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

the  present  generation,  but  the  generations  to 
come,  than  in  making  the  schoolrooms  in  this 
or  any  State  places  of  cheer  and  comfort, 
where  our  children  would  go  with  joy,  their 
hearts  and  minds  open,  perceptions  alert,  to 
receive  and  doubly  profit  from  instructions  re 
ceived  under  these  alluring  circumstances. 
Oh,  had  I  the  means,  how  quickly  would  I  act ! 
How  great  would  be  my  reward! " 

Sharpe  had  listened  with  evident  interest. 
Gould  had  watched  his  friend's  face  as  the 
Major  unfolded  his  scheme  of  philanthropy. 
He  knew,  as  no  one  else  present  knew,  the  deep 
impression  the  Major's  remarks  had  made 
upon  Sharpe. 

After  a  moment  of  silence  Sharpe  turned  to 
the  Major. 

"Would  you  undertake  to  do  this  work  of 
supplying  schoolhouses,  such  as  you  conceive, 
if  you  had  the  necessary  money  placed  at  your 
disposal? " 

"I  should  feel  that  Almighty  God  had 
blessed  me  beyond  all  computation  if  I  could 
do  this  work.'1 


"Now,  Mr.  Gray,  what  is  your  scheme  of 
philanthropy?" 

There  was  a  reminiscent  look  in  the  deep 
eyes  of  the  Squire  as  he  replied: 

"  I  agree  with  the  Major.  This  would  be  a 
work  which  would  bring  incalculable  benefit 
to  thousands  of  children  who  too  often  leave 
the  schools  at  an  early  age,  not  altogether 
because  they  do  not  care  to  pursue  their  studies, 
but  because  the  severe  discomforts  of  the 
schoolrooms  hazard  their  health.  If  you 
should  visit  one  of  these  isolated  schools  some 
cold  winter  day  and  hear  the  children  cough  it 
would  make  your  heart  ache.  The  Major  is 
right.  This  is  an  opportunity  for  a  philan 
thropist.  But,  alas!  it  cannot  be  hoped  for. 
Too  rarely  does  the  possessor  of  wealth  possess 
also  a  noble  spirit  of  philanthropy." 

Sharpe  knew  that  the  remarks  of  these  two 
men  contained  no  innuendoes  directed  to  him. 
They  had  no  knowledge  of  his  great  wealth. 
He  was  looked  upon  as  a  prosperous  business 
man  of  rather  eccentric  ideas,  as  the  purchase 
of  the  violin  had  led  many  to  believe,  but  that 


300        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

he  was  many  times  a  millionaire  they  never 
dreamed. 

"Have  you  no  pet  project,  Mr.  Gray? 
Most  men  have,"  said  Sharpe. 

'Yes,  I  have  a  pet  project,  but  like  those 
schoolhouses  of  the  Major's  it  is  a  thing  that 
dreams  are  made  of.  Only  a  dream." 

"Let  us  hear  your  dream,"  said  Sharpe. 

"  For  many  years,"  began  the  Squire,  "  I 
was  surveyor  of  timber  lands.  This  gave  me 
an  opportunity  to  explore  the  Maine  woods 
from  Mattawamkeag  to  Madawska.  I  learned 
to  love  these  woods,  so  interminable,  so 
majestic,  so  silent.  I  felt  their  strength, 
their  dumb  friendship,  breathed  their  spicy 
air,  drank  their  waters;  lived  with  them,  in 
them,  and  became  a  part  of  them,  at  least 
in  spirit  and  fraternity.  There  was  a  time 
when  I  thought  that  no  destuction  'that 
walks  abroad'  could  imperil  them;  I  recked 
not  of  the  greed  of  the  modern  man,  and  the 
improved  means  by  which  he  could  compass 
the  destruction  of  anything  that  would  pay  him 
six  per  cent.  I  was  foolish  enough  to  think 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        301 

that  a  State  which  had  produced  so  many  men 
of  brain  and  iron  from  the  days  of  George 
Evans  to  Thomas  B.  Reed,  a  State  having 
more  influence  at  the  federal  capital  than  any 
three  in  the  Union,  would  have  soul,  sense  and 
wisdom  enough  to  preserve  the  most  magnifi 
cent  park  under  high  heaven,  not  only  for  the 
children  of  this  State,  but  for  America.  Alas, 
they  have  overlooked  the  fact  that  the  great 
force  and  intellect  which  has  been  so  dominant 
in  her  children  has  been  the  transmuting  of  the 
forest  air,  of  its  leaves  and  balsam,  of  its  pure 
waters,  into  men  and  women.  And  they  have 
known  it  not. 

"That  domain  of  unravished  nature  is 
doomed,  unless  some  great  spirit,  with  a 
'  tongue  of  flame '  and  money  to  boot,  can  call 
the  attention  of  the  nation  to  this  great  physi 
cian,  to  this  Balm  of  Gilead,  that  still  survives 
and  can  be  saved  to  bless  unborn  generations 
if  only  an  agitation  can  be  set  in  motion  that 
shall  wake  up  the  whole  nation  to  this  worse 
than  suicide  of  its  holy  wood  and  water. 

"  Had  I  the  influence  and  eloquence  I  would 


302       JAY   GOULD    HARMON 

seek  the  country's  ear  and  tell  of  another  na 
tional  park  extending  from  the  Ambejejus  on 
the  south  to  Churchill's  lake  on  the  northwest ; 
from  Sebois  and  Grand  Lake  on  the  east  to 
Chesuncook  and  the  Allagash  on  the  west; 
while  Katahdin,  rearing  its  glorious  head  and 
flinging  down  its  shadows  on  half  a  thousand 
lakes,  should  dominate  all.  It  is  within  the 
lines  of  possibility  that  some  great  soul  or  souls 
could  be  found  to  buy  Katahdin  and  a  million 
acres  around  her  base,  and  give  it  to  the  birds 
of  the  air,  to  the  deer,  the  moose  and  the  cari 
bou,  to  the  quaint  and  harmless  bear,  to  the  fox, 
the  beaver  and  the  little  musquash  even,  and  say 
to  them  '  in  the  beginning  God  gave  these  woods 
and  streams  to  you,  but  man  has  usurped  your 
bowers  and  filled  your  simple  lives  with  fear 
and  peril.  I  give  them  back  on  the  condition 
that  man  and  beast  shall  lie  down  together  in 
this  garden  of  God  in  peace. ' ! 

There  were  tears  in  the  old  man's  eyes  as 
he  continued,  "Pardon  me,  but  this  subject 
lies  very  near  my  heart.  It  is  my  dream. 
Alas,  that  it  is  only  a  dream!  I  cannot  hope 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        303 

that  the  people  of  the  State  or  the  nation  will 
ever  attain  to  the  knowledge  that  right  here, 
within  twenty- four  hours  of  forty  millions  of 
people,  God  has  made  a  park  that  would  accom 
modate  them  all,  if  used  for  the  beneficent 
purpose  for  which  it  would  appear  heaven  had 
ordained  it." 

Not  a  word  was  spoken  for  a  long  time,  but 
right  there  a  parturition  had  taken  place  in 
the  form  of  a  resolve  and  purpose  in  the  soul 
of  Lionel  Sharpe.  He  knew  that  he  had  heard 
the  word,  that  his  mission  had  been  pointed  out, 
all  unwittingly,  in  that  plain  log  room,  by  the 
two  simple  men  who  never  suspected  the  agita 
tion  that  their  words  had  caused. 

"Major  Crosby,"  he  began,  "I  am  a  man 
who  has  never  done  much  good  in  this  world, 
but  have  been  waiting  for  an  opportunity.  You 
have  pointed  the  way.  I  wish  to  deputize  you 
and  Squire  Gray  to  make  preparations  to  carry 
out  your  idea  of  providing  comfortable  school- 
houses  wherever  in  this  county — for  the  present 
we  will  confine  it  to  this  county — you  think 
they  are  needed.  I  will  send  an  architect  at 


304        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

once,  capable  of  selecting  sites  and  drafting 
plans  suitable  to  the  needs  of  the  place. 

"  I  request  that  the  communities  enjoying 
these  benefits  agree  to  make  no  effort  to  learn 
who  their  benefactor  is.  It  is  sufficient  reward 
for  me  to  know  that  I  am  doing  some  practical 
good.  I  will  place  in  the  bank  in  B—  -  fifty 
thousand  dollars,  subject  to  your  call.  Trust 
to  me  to  properly  reward  your  services. 

:<  The  Katahdin  scheme  also  interests  me.  I 
have  many  wealthy  friends  who  I  think  will 
be  glad  to  join  me  in  trying  to  preserve  these 
woods,  at  least  in  part,  from  the  avarice  of  the 
people  of  Maine.  I  promise  you  to  set  in 
motion  an  agitation  that  I  hope  will  result 
in  checking  this  wanton  destruction. 

"Now  Major  Crosby  and  Squire  Gray,  are 
you  willing  to  take  hold  with  me  and  endeavor 
to  transmute  your  dreams  into  facts?" 

The  two  men  spoke  as  one  and  answered, 
"We  are." 

And  thus  began  in  the  little  hamlet  of  Fall 
ing  Water  the  agitation  of  a  scheme  which, 
though  not  yet  realized,  is  moving  on ;  for  men 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        305 

of  wisdom  and  wealth  are  learning  where  best 
their  great  fortunes  can  serve  mankind.  Gifts 
of  comely  and  comfortable  schoolhouses, 
libraries,  and  all  that  go  to  promote  civilization, 
are  the  multiplied  facts  of  the  hour. 

The  great  woods,  it  is  hoped,  are  soon  to  be 
rescued  by  the  nation,  and  another  park  sur 
passing  the  Yellowstone  in  its  availability  to 
the  American  people  will  be  a  fact. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

THE  following  night  Gould  and  Car 
ter  called  upon  Sharpe  at  the  Squire's. 
They  occupied  the  great  sitting-room. 
The  night  being  chilly  a  fire  had  been  kindled 
upon  the  cheerful  hearth,  and  the  three  friends 
were  enjoying  it. 

"  Squire  Gray,"  said  Gould,  "  now  that 
the  plans  are  nearly  perfected  for  carrying 
forward  Mr.  Sharpe's  scheme  of  philanthropy, 
suppose  you  open  the  door  leading  into  the 
store  so  that  we  can  hear  your  friends  and 
neighbors  talk.  I  have  assured  Mr.  Sharpe 
that  it  is  in  itself  an  entertainment." 

"  Certainly.  The  old  ten  are  there  already, 
and  are  as  full  of  talk  as  an  egg  is  of  meat. 
Brother  Lige,  as  usual,  has  the  floor." 

The  door  was  opened,  and  there  came  float 
ing  into  the  room  the  voices  of  the  men  gath 
ered  around  the  fire. 

306 


JAY    GOULD   HARMON       307 

"Wall,  they  do  say,"  quoth  Lige,  "that 
little  Joey  Crosby  is  pindling.  He  never  got 
over  the  plunge  in  the  river.  John  Crosby  is 
distracted  and  has  had  nearly  every  doctor 
in  the  county.  I  tell  you,  boys,  he's  a  changed 
man.  He  don't  have  anything  to  say  against 
Mr.  Gould  now.  His  saving  that  eight 
thousand  dollars  for  John  jest  softened  his 
hard  heart,  and  little  Joey  seems  to  love  Gould. 
He  axed  for  him  several  times  to-day,  John 
says.  I  suspect  if  Mr.  Gould  knew  it,  it  would 
be  jest  like  him  to  forget  everything  and  go 
and  see  that  boy." 

Somebody  said  "Here  comes  Link  Lin 
coln,"  and  the  drummer  came  bustling  in,  and 
in  his  breezy  manner  saluted  everyone. 

"Hullo,  Lige.  I  am  glad  to  see  you. 
John,  is  that  you?  Why  wasn't  you  home  to 
receive  me  at  the  tavern?  Someone's  got  my 
room.  I  wrote  to  you  to  save  it.  Hullo,  Bige! 
How's  your  phthisic?  I  say,  Jake,  since 
I  was  here  I've  heard  that  you've  been 
pretty  rich.  Rich  a  whole  week.  How  did  it 
seem? " 


308        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

"  Oh,  you  let  up  on  a  feller,"  said  Jake  Corn 
ish.  '  You've  been  a  fool  yourself,  Link." 

"  That's  so,  Jake." 

Lincoln  subsided  and  was  silent  until  Lige 
inquired : 

"What's  the  matter,  Link?  Business  dull?" 

"  Worse  than  that,  Lige.  Lost  another  girl ! 
Best  one  this  time." 

"We  knowed  that,"  chimed  in  Bige  Crab- 
tree,  with  a  grin.  "Seen  Abby  Smart?" 

'Yes,"  said  Link,  with  a  note  of  dejection. 
'  You  see  it's  this  way.  I  went  down  as  usual 
to  see  Madeline.  She  didn't  seem  exactly 
tickled  to  death  to  see  me,  but  treated  me  well 
enough.  Everybody  is  treated  well  at  the 
Major's,  you  know.  I  knew  that  something 
was  wrong.  I  had  half  a  suspicion  when  I  was 
there  before  that  my  zither  had  ruined  my 
chances.  When  you  put  a  zither  against  a 
violin  the  zither  has  no  show.  I  felt  myself, 
after  I  heard  that  man  Gould  play,  that  the 
halo  I  had  tried  to  spread  over  Madeline  had 
just  been  lifted,  dispelled  as  it  were.  There 
are  no  staying  qualities  to  a  zither.  You  can 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        309 

amuse  a  bright  girl  a  little  while.  You  can 
make  her  laugh,  but  you  can't  make  her  cry. 
If  you  want  to  get  a  girl  solid  you  want  to  play 
so  that  she  will  cry." 

"  Thar  you're  right,"  broke  in  Lige.  "  That 
Gould  nigh  broke  my  heart  that  night,  and 
I'd  give  him  a  dollar  to  do  it  agen.  The  man 
that  will  make  you  cry  will  beat  the  man  that 
will  make  you  laugh.  But  go  on,  Link,  We'd 
like  to  hear,  wouldn't  we,  boys?  " 

They  all  assented. 

"I  soon  smelt  a  large  mouse,  and  didn't 
waste  myself  at  Sunny  Point.  On  my  way  to 
the  tavern  I  met  Abby  Smart." 

There  was  a  low  "he!  he!"  heard  in  Bige's 
corner. 

"  Well,  Abby  was  loaded.  She  took  me  by 
the  second  button,  and  reeled  off  the  whole 
story.  '  Now,  Link  Lincoln,'  she  began,  '  you 
jest  thought  that  among  the  girls  you  was  in 
visible,  especially  when  you  played  the  zither.' 
(Damn  the  zither,  I  thought  to  myself.) 
'You'll  jest  find  out  you're  not,  for  you  are 
clean  cut  out  down  at  Crosby's.  There's  a 


310       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

feller  come  over  here  from  Millinocket.  They 
call  him  a  silver  engineer.  He's  a  little  feller 
with  big  eyes,  thin  face,  and  a  tremor  voice. 
He  jest  sang  to  that  Madeline  until  he  tangled 
her  heart  all  up.  And  the  poor  little  thing  is 
dreadful  taken  up  with  him.  Why,  they 
would  walk  in  front  of  my  house  hand  in  hand, 
oliverous  to  everybody.  Didn't  seem  to  care 
what  I  thought  about  'em.  It  was  jest 
sickening.' 

"  I  left  Abby.  I  had  heard  enough.  I  saw 
that  my  zither  work  had  utterly  failed.  So  I 
am  on  the  market  again  for  a  girl.  The 
trouble  with  me,  boys,  is  that  it's  the  finest  kind 
of  a  girl  I  like ;  the  smart,  pretty,  honest  ones. 
But  they  all  seem  to  size  me  and  my  zither  up, 
and  after  a  while  they  say  very  sweetly, '  Good- 
by  Link.'  They  forget  to  say  '  Come  again,' 
and  I  take  the  hint.  You  know,  boys,  I  liked 
Helen  pretty  well  at  one  time,  but  when  Lige's 
son,  the  minister,  began  to  preach  at  Greens- 
burg  he  lifted  my  zither  halo  the  first  sermon 
he  preached.  And  she  said  '  Good-by,  Link,' 
very  sweetly,  one  night.  But  I  must  find  an- 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        311 

other,  and  I  have  made  up  my  mind  that  I  am 
going  to  court  the  next  girl,  propose,  and  marry 
her  in  twenty- four  hours.  That's  the  only 
way  I  will  ever  get  a  wife." 

"  Oh,  there's  five  hundred  girls,"  broke  in 
John  Gary,  "  between  here  and  Ashland  that 
would  be  glad  to  marry  you,  if  you'll  take  off 
those  sunrise  shoes,  throw  away  that  red  neck 
tie,  and  leave  your  zither  at  home." 

'  They  wouldn't  know  me,"  replied  Link. 

'  That  would  be  just  where  you  would  win," 
said  Jake  Cornish.  'You'd  have  'em  at  a 
disadvantage." 

Link  put  his  hand  in  his  pocket  and  pulled 
out  a  newspaper. 

"  I  say,  boys,  there's  something  here  that  will 
set  the  whole  county  talking,  and,  if  I  am 
not  greatly  mistaken,  Falling  Water  will  be 
printed  on  the  next  map  in  large  letters.  It's 
the  biggest  thing  for  you  people  since  that  man 
Gould  set  the  whole  country  talking  about 
the  hero  of  Falling  Water.  Now,  cock  your 
ears  up.  This  is  the  Boston  Herald,  which 
copied  it  from  the  New  York  Herald" 


312       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

Everyone  was  on  the  alert;  the  little  group 
in  the  sitting-room  was  equally  attentive.  Lin 
coln  stepped  in  front  of  them,  and  read  as 
follows : 

"  There  arrived  in  New  York  from  Paris,  on  the 
steamer  Normandie  to-day,  Mons.  Pierre  de  Neumoirs,  his 
mission  to  this  country  being  to  find  the  heir  of  Carl  de 
Neumoirs,  his  elder  brother,  who,  with  his  wife,  was  lost 
at  sea.  There  was  a  daughter,  Hortense,  left  by  the  par 
ents  in  Canada,  and  it  is  this  daughter  who  is  one  of  the 
heirs  to  her  grandfather's  estate  in  France.  It  is  thought 
that  she  is  still  living.  Anyone  having  knowledge  of  such 
a  person  as  is  here  mentioned  will  be  suitably  rewarded  by 
informing  Mons.  Pierre  de  Neumoirs,  Victoria  Hotel, 
New  York." 

"  What  do  you  think  of  that,  boys?  It  took 
your  humble  servant  just  ten  minutes  to  wire 
this  de  Neumoirs  just  where  he  could  find  the 
said  Hortense ;  for  you  know,  or  you  ought  to 
know,  that  Major  Crosby's  wife  was  Hortense 
de  Neumoirs.  I  claimed  the  reward,  and  I'm 
looking  for  something  handsome.  If  I  get  it 
we'll  have  a  smoker  right  here,  and  they  won't 
be  two-fers  either." 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        313 

Here  they  were  interrupted  by  hearing  an 
agitated  voice  say : 

'  Young  man,  will  you  allow  me  to  see  that 
paper?" 

They  looked  up  to  see  the  tall  form  of 
Sharpe  standing  in  the  doorway,  with  Gould 
and  Carter  near. 

Sharpe  read  the  article.  When  he  had  fin 
ished  he  said  to  Squire  Gray,  "  Is  there  a  train 
to  Boston  to-night?" 

"At  half -past  ten.  You  have  forty  min 
utes,"  said  the  Squire. 

Addressing  Lincoln,  Sharpe  said,  "'Your 
name  and  address,  young  man.  Here  is  my 
note-book.  I  will  see  that  you  are  properly 
rewarded." 

The  next  morning  Sharpe  was  steaming  out 
of  Boston  for  New  York.  Carter  returned 
to  Millinocket. 

The  night  succeeding  Lois  and  Gould 
stood  together  over  the  bed  of  little  Joey,  who 
was  dying.  The  distracted  father  had  sent 
for  them.  The  mother,  weary  with  her  vigils 
and  crushed  with  grief,  lay  in  the  adjoining 


314       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

room,  too  weak  to  attend  to  the  needs  of  her 
dying  child. 

At  the  bedside  Gould  saw  in  the  face  of 
Lois  an  expression  of  such  love  as  only  the  face 
of  a  pure  soul,  spiritualized  by  grief,  can  man 
ifest.  Never  had  she  seemed  more  beautiful 
than  when,  bending  over  the  little  form,  she 
tenderly  kissed  the  pallid  face,  and  with  a  look 
of  love  and  pity  watched  the  little  soul  go  out 
into  eternity;  closing  the  white  lids  down  for 
the  last  time.  Then  she  sank  into  a  chair,  her 
sobs  choked  back  that  they  might  not  reach  the 
ears  of  the  almost  unconscious  mother,  who  had 
been  spared  the  agony  of  the  last  moment. 

She  stifled  her  sobs,  stepped  into  the  next 
room  and  as  gently  as  possible  told  her  uncle 
that  little  Joey  was  dead.  The  father  had  ex 
pected  it,  but  the  end  was  a  shock  to  him,  and 
the  house  was  filled  with  his  lamentations. 
When  he  had  calmed  somewhat  Gould  said 
to  him:  "  The  doctor  is  here,  Mr.  Crosby,  and 
if  you  will  let  your  man  assist  me  to  harness,  I 
will  go  to  Greensburg  and  attend  to  all  neces 
sary  arrangements.  If  you  choose  to  have  me 


JAY   GOULD    HARMON       315 

I  will  take  the  care  and  preparation  of  the 
funeral  off  your  hands." 

"God  bless  you,  Jay  Gould!"  said  the 
grief -stricken  father.  "  I  understand  now  what 
my  brother  meant  when  he  said  that  you  came 
to  them  '  like  a  angel.' ' 

One  month  from  that  date  Gould  was  in 
Millinocket,  installed  in  the  position  made 
vacant  by  Carter,  while  Lois  and  her  mother 
were  on  the  Atlantic,  en  route  to  Paris  to  meet 
their  kinsfolk  in  that  city. 

Carter  was  in  Colorado,  and  had  written 
Gould  that  he  had  been  greatly  benefited  by 
the  change. 

The  Major  and  his  son  Albert,  Jim  Gramme, 
and  the  old  Squire  were  busy  with  their  plans 
of  far-reaching  benefits.  They  are  as  dumb  as 
oysters,  and  the  group  around  the  fireplace 
exhausted  its  ingenuity  in  trying  to  find  out 
"what's  afoot." 

Madeline  is  still  mistress  at  Sunny  Point; 
a  little  lonely,  but  the  long  letters  from  Colo 
rado  partially  compensate  for  the  absence  of 
her  mother  and  sister. 


CHAPTER   XVIII 

ONE  evening  Sharpe  sat  quietly  smok 
ing    in    Gould's    room.      The    rude 
comforts  about  him  were  magnified 
by  the  soft  light  from  the  fireplace;  which 
lent  something  of  beauty  and  poetry  to  the 
massive  timbers  composing  the  room. 

The  broad  couch  with  its  bear-skin  robe,  the 
suggestive  restfulness  of  the  heavy  chairs,  the 
fur  rugs  scattered  in  an  easy  abandon  on 
the  floor,  the  great  open  fireplace,  the  general 
harmony  of  everything  conduced  to  give  rest 
and  serenity  to  this  man  of  the  world. 

In  his  own  home  there  were  lying  about 
unnoticed  many  trinkets  whose  value  was 
greater  than  all  the  furnishings  of  this  room; 
aye,  of  the  entire  house.  Yet  he  did  not 
remember  that  there  had  ever  come  to  him  in 
that  luxurious  home  such  a  feeling  of  tran 
quillity  and  settled  ease  as  he  now  enjoyed, 
under  the  bare  rafters  of  that  rough  room  and 

316 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        317 

before  the  cheering  blaze  of  the  rude  stone 
fireplace. 

"What  is  the  secret  of  this  unaccountable 
contentment? "  he  asked  himself.  "  Have  I,  like 
many  other  men,  been  made  a  '  fool  of  my 
senses '  ?  Have  I  wasted  my  life  by  trying  to 
maintain  it  under  the  extremes  of  luxurious 
living?  I  fear  so. 

"Here,  as  Emerson  says,  *I  can  drop  the 
heavy  knapsack  of  custom  from  my  shoulders, 
and  know — freedom.' ' 

Gould  had  been  softly  playing  on  the  muted 
violin  during  the  silent  soliloquy  of  his  friend. 
The  music  had  stolen  into  the  heart  of  Sharpe, 
rendering  it  almost  tender.  A  strange  con 
tentment  possessed  him  and,  like  the  philoso 
pher  that  he  was,  he  tried  to  analyze  it. 

A  knock  at  the  door  interrupted  the  flow  of 
the  music  and  the  thoughts  of  the  philosopher. 

Going  to  the  door  Gould  admitted  Squire 
Gray  and  the  old  hunter,  Jim  Gramme. 

After  a  hearty  hand-shake  they  were  soon 
seated  around  the  hearth,  the  Major  coming 
in  to  join  the  group. 


318        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

"Do  you  smoke,  Mr.  Gramme?"  asked 
Sharpe. 

"A  pipe  sometimes,"  he  answered  in  a  low 
voice. 

"Pipes  are  much  more  social  on  occasions 
like  this,"  said  Sharpe. 

He  arose,  and  going  to  a  deep  niche  in  the 
side  of  the  chimney,  brought  forth  a  box  of 
corn  cob  pipes,  also  one  of  tobacco;  and  soon 
the  blending  smoke  of  the  group  was  slowly 
drifting  towards  and  into  the  mouth  of  the 
chimney. 

After  some  minutes  of  that  silent  bliss, 
known  only  to  congenial  smokers,  Squire  Gray 
removed  his  pipe  and  said,  "  Mr.  Gould, 
Mr.  Gramme  has  come  over  this  evening  to 
thank  you  for  what  you  did  for  his  boy,  Jim. 
It  has  been  on  his  mind  for  a  long  time  to  come 
and  tell  you ;  but  being  a  very  modest  man,  he 
feared  to  come  alone,  and  so  he  asked  me  to 
accompany  him." 

Before  Gramme  could  speak  Gould  said, 

'  There  are  no  thanks  due  me,  Mr.  Gramme. 

It  is  I  who  should  thank  your  son,  for  I  con- 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        319 

sider  he  saved  my  life  at  the  Falls.  It  was 
your  son  who  held  the  rope  on  which  my  life 
depended.  In  the  midst  of  that  cataract  of 
moving  logs,  that  would  have  terrified  most 
men,  he  held  his  ground.  Your  son  took  a  ter 
rible  chance  and  had  he  flinched  one  moment  I 
should  not  be  here  to-night.  I  am  proud  to 
reckon  so  brave  a  man  among  my  friends,  and 
I  honor  you,  Mr.  Gramme,  as  his  father.  You 
should  be  proud  of  such  a  son." 

For  a  moment  the  old  man  sat  silently  look 
ing  into  the  fire.  Then  seeming  to  ignore 
Gould,  he  addressed  himself  to  Sharpe : 

'Yer  friend  here  seems  ruther  a  puzzle  to 
us  'ere  folks.  We  can't  understand  him  nohow. 
He  ain't  like  anything  we  ever  had  round  here. 
When  anyone  wants  a  friend  or  someone  to 
help  'em  out  of  a  trap,  he  seems  to  be  right 
thar  to  do  it.  And  when  he  gits  'em  out  he 
thanks  'em  for  the  privilege  of  doing  it. 
That's  jist  a  little  beyond  my  understanding. 
Now,  I've  been  trying  to  git  it  through  my  old 
head  how  he  argered  it  round  hisself  that  one- 
half  of  that  money  which  the  company  gave 


320       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

him  for  bustin'  the  jam  on  Grand  Falls  be 
longed  to  my  boy  Jim.  He  didn't  bust  the 
jam.  All  he  did  was  to  hold  the  rope.  That 
wasn't  worth  noting.  But  this  'ere  curus  chap, 
er,  er — Mr.  Gould  I  mean,  made  Jim  take  it- 
jammed  it  right  into  his  pocket;  telling  him  to 
knock  off  work  and  go  to  school — and  Jim's 
did  it.  And  now  this  man  says  that  Jim  and  I 
don't  owe  him  nothing,  not  even  thanks.  But 
we  do,  Mr.  Sharpe,  and  Jim  and  I  will  jist  keep 
thinking  so  as  long  as  the  waters  flow  over 
Grand  Falls." 

There  was  no  mistaking  the  sincerity  of  the 
old  man's  gratitude.  Gould  appeared  embar 
rassed.  The  Major  went  out  with  moistened 
eyes,  but  soon  returned  with  wood  to  replenish 
the  fire. 

Sharpe  had  listened  with  unmoved  face  to 
all  that  had  been  said.  Finally  he  turned  to 
the  group  saying,  "  My  friends,  Mr.  Gramme's 
stories  of  his  experience  in  the  woods  which  T 
heard  him  tell  the  other  night  have  possessed 
me  with  a  desire  to  realize  what  it  is  to  be 
alone  in  the  woods.  It  may  strike  you  as  a 


little  strange  when  I  state  that  I  never  was 
alone  in  my  life ;  I  mean,  never  beyond  the  voice 
of  man  nor  the  sound  of  his  footsteps.  Now,  I 
have  a  great  desire  to  camp  out  a  few  days  on 
the  shore  of  some  lake,  all  alone ;  to  see  no  one, 
to  hear  no  one,  save  the  wild  habitat  of  the 
wood  and  sky;  to  cut  my  own  wood,  to  build 
my  fires,  to  cook  my  food,  to  serve — myself. 
I  never  have  had  such  an  experience.  Now 
seems  my  opportunity.  Men  have  served  me 
through  my  life,  but  I  have  not  served  them ;  it 
is  time  I  did.  I  will  begin  with  myself.  Mr. 
Gramme,  I  shall  ask  you  as  an  experienced 
man,  to  help  me  to  find  a  place  where  for  two 
days  I  can  enjoy  undisturbed  by  anyone  '  the 
social  silence  of  nature.'  What  I  require  to 
make  me  comfortable,  please  furnish  me.  And 
I  shall  be  glad  to  pay  you." 

And  so  it  was  arranged.  About  three 
o'clock  the  following  day  Sharpe  and  Gramme 
came  to  the  shore  of  a  lake  about  six  miles 
from  Falling  Water  and  unburdened  the 
jumper  on  which  the  supplies  for  the  camp 
had  been  brought. 


322        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

"  Shall  I  help  you  pitch  the  tent?"  inquired 
Gramme. 

"  I  thank  you,  yes.  That  is  one  thing  I  am 
sure  I  could  not  do." 

While  pitching  the  tent  Gramme  instructed 
Sharpe  how  to  make  his  bed,  build  the  fire  and 
keep  it  burning,  and  many  other  things  apper 
taining  to  camp  life. 

The  spot  selected  was  Birch  Point  on  Old 
Molunk.  It  was  near  the  lake  and  greatly  to 
the  liking  of  Sharpe. 

"  Mr.  Gramme,  you  can  go  now.  Two  days 
from  this  hour  come  for  me."  They  shook 
hands,  and  Sharpe  watched  the  figure  of  the 
old  guide  until  it  disappeared  in  the  heavy 
woods  back  of  the  tent. 

And  Lionel  Sharpe  for  the  first  time  in  his 
life  was  alone. 

He  tried  to  realize  that  he  was  alone.  That 
for  which  he  had  hungered  and  thirsted  was  his, 
but  he  could  not  seem  to  grasp  the  fact.  The 
last  words  of  the  old  man  still  lingered  in  his 
mind:  "Yer  will  have  to  work  lively  to  have 
things  ready  by  sundown.  Darkness  comes 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        323 

on  sort  o'  quick  in  the  woods  after  the  sun 
draps  out." 

"Well,  I  think  I'll  build  a  fire  first,"  he 
thought.  "  No,  I'll  prepare  my  bed  while  it  is 
light.  Let  me  see.  I  want  two  sticks  about 
six  inches  in  diameter,  *  Six  inches  through/  as 
Gramme  would  say.  One  three  feet  long,  the 
other  seven  and  a  half.  '  These  will  keep  me 
from  rolling  out  of  bed '  Gramme  said." 

He  felled  a  near-by  poplar  and  cutting  the 
lengths  desired  laid  them  down  in  one  corner  of 
the  tent ;  and  driving  some  pins  each  side,  went 
forth  to  find  a  "  mattress,"  as  he  called  it. 

He  began  breaking  off  small  boughs  from 
the  low  fir  trees,  hooking  them  around  his  ax 
handle.  By  laying  them  in  a  circle  one  branch 
supported  the  other  until  the  entire  length  of 
the  handle  was  taken  up.  He  went  back  to 
the  tent  and  spread  them  on  the  ground. 
This  he  repeated,  each  time  selecting  shorter 
tips  until  his  couch  was  completed.  He  spread 
his  blankets  and  arranged  his  bed  with  great 
care. 

He  then  built  his  fire  outside,  first  having 


324        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

driven  his  crotched  stakes,  and  provided  a 
long  green  pole  on  which  to  hang  his  kettle. 

This  had  taken  some  time,  but  he  had  not 
noticed  its  flight,  so  taken  up  was  he  with  his 
supper. 

Now  he  would  prepare  his  supper  with  his 
own  hands.  He  followed  closely  the  instruc 
tions  of  Gramme  and  succeeded  in  making  a 
cup  of  tea,  boiling  potatoes,  toasting  bread  and 
frying  a  small  piece  of  ham.  And  when  for 
the  first  time  he  spread  his  simple  meal  on  the 
top  of  the  rough  box  which  served  him  as  a 
table  he  felt  that  he  had  done  something  un 
usual,  something  decidedly  creditable.  He 
could  not  have  told  why  he  was  so  pleased  and 
proud,  yet  he  was,  and  he  found  himself  hum 
ming  an  old  song  that  he  had  heard  in  his  child 
hood  days.  "  We  hunted  and  halloed  and  the 
next  thing  we  did  find,"  etc. 

He  washed  his  dishes  and  put  them  away 
carefully.  Then  taking  his  pipe  and  folding 
stool  he  went  down  to  the  shore,  sat  down  to 
enjoy  the  coming  on  of  the  night,  and  tried  to 
realize  that  he  was  indeed — alone. 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        325 

In  front  of  him  were  the  bright  waters 
which  touched  the  shores  with  gleaming  ripples, 
sending  up,  as  it  seemed  to  him,  gurgling 
happy  laughter  as  they  sported  at  his  feet. 
Back  of  him  were  the  dark,  soft  outlines  of  the 
fragrant  and  comforting  woods,  and  still 
farther  away  he  could  faintly  discern  the  serene 
and  solemn  outlines  of  Katahdin  dominating 
everything.  And  over  all  hovered  peace  and 
a  wide,  sweet  silence  that  his  soul  had  long 
yearned  for. 

He  watched  the  purple  light  fall  upon  the 
lake  and  gradually  deepen  into  darkness.  The 
heavy-skirted  shores  for  a  long  while  remained 
gloomily  visible,  and  when  at  last  he  returned 
to  his  tent  he  fell  into  a  sleep  that  comes  only 
to  a  man  in  the  depths  of  the  woods  where  there 
is  fragrant  warmth,  ease  and  careless  freedom, 
for  here  all  nature  conjoins  to  hypnotize  the 
senses  and  "  Steep  them  in  (utter)  forget- 
f ulness." 

When  Sharpe  awoke  the  sun  had  risen  above 
the  forest  and  was  pouring  its  light  into  his 
tent.  For  a  moment  he  could  not  account  for 


326       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

his  being  there.  His  sleep  had  been  so  pro 
found  and  dreamless  that  he  was  unable  to 
make  himself  believe  that  a  full  night  of  time 
had  actually  passed  since  he  had  lain  down  to 
sleep. 

He  arose,  and  putting  on  a  bathing  suit  he 
ran  down  to  the  pebbly  shore  to  take  a  dip 
before  preparing  his  breakfast.  The  lake  lay 
like  a  mirror  before  him.  There  was  not  the 
slightest  ripple  on  its  surface. 

The  great  woods  sloped  down  to  its  shores, 
framing  the  waters  in  living  green.  There  wras 
something  exhilarating  in  the  taintless  air  that 
came  to  him  over  the  woods  and  waters.  He 
felt  that  he  must  shout,  so  full  was  he  of 
ecstasy.  All  this  surpassing  beauty  and  gran 
deur  was  his;  for  was  he  not — alone? 

Suddenly  his  attention  was  drawn  to  a  white 
birch  tree  growing  very  near  the  water.  Some 
thing  protruded  from  the  trunk.  It  was 
moving,  swinging  about.  As  there  was  no 
wind  Sharpe  knew  that  it  could  not  be  the  flut 
ter  of  a  leaf  or  movement  of  a  shrub. 

He  approached  it  and  saw  with  feelings  of 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        327 

indignation  and  pity  that  someone  had  trapped 
a  muskrat  in  a  rather  peculiar  and  very  cruel 
manner. 

A  large  hole  had  been  bored  in  the  tree  just 
above  the  ground.  A  horse-shoe  nail  drawn 
and  sharpened  had  been  toe-nailed  just  below 
the  opening,  the  point  passing  through  the 
wood  and  into  the  hole.  At  the  further  end 
of  the  hole  and  beyond  the  point  of  the  nail  the 
cunning  trapper  had  placed  a  piece  of  fish. 
The  hungry  little  animal  had  crowded  his  head 
in  that  he  might  seize  the  fish.  Its  throat  would 
slide  over  the  cruel  point,  but  when  he  at 
tempted  to  withdraw  it  the  nail  would  pierce 
his  neck  and  hold  him  until  the  trapper  came. 
How  long  the  poor  creature  had  suffered 
Sharpe  did  not  for  a  moment  consider;  but 
running  back  to  the  tent,  hastily  throwing  on 
his  coat,  he  seized  an  ax  and  started  to  release 
the  suffering  animal.  It  was  necessary  to  pro 
ceed  carefully  in  order  not  to  kill  the  rat  while 
cutting  him  out.  He  finally  released  him  and 
felt  happy  when  he  saw  the  little  animal  swim 
swiftly  away;  and  Sharpe  imagined  him  re- 


328        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

counting  his  terrible  experience  to  his  furry 
kindred. 

He  was  about  to  return  when  a  canoe  ap 
peared  around  a  bend  in  the  lake,  and  in  it  was 
a  little  black-whiskered  man  who  seemed 
greatly  excited.  He  brought  the  canoe  to  the 
shore  near  where  Sharpe  stood,  leaped  out  and 
running  up  to  the  tree  shouted,  "  Tort  Dieu!" 
Then  turning  to  Sharpe  he  said  fiercely, 
"  Where  is  ze  rat  dat  you  stole  me?  He  is 
mine,  by  gar.  You  gif  him  me,  I  keel  you 
-no!" 

The  man  was  quite  small,  but  his  manner 
was  threatening  and  his  wrath  genuine.  He 
ran  to  the  canoe  and  seizing  a  small  hatchet 
advanced  again  towards  Sharpe. 

"  Where  you  hide  ze  rat?  He  was  all  I  haf 
to  eat.  My  leele  seek  girl  she  haf  noding  to 
eat.  I  haf  noding  to  eat.  You  vey  bad  to 
tak  our  brakfast." 

To  say  that  Sharpe  was  astonished  was  to 
say  very  little.  He  said  nothing  but  stood 
looking  at  the  little  man  who  was  still  dancing 
around  him  and  swearing  in  French  under  his 


breath.  The  Frenchman  had  been  awed  some 
what  by  the  stately  dignity  of  the  stranger 
and  would  not  have  dared  to  assault  him. 
Sharpe's  mind  had  worked  quickly.  He 
took  in  the  situation  at  once.  He  felt  no  in 
dignation,  only  pity.  There  flashed  through 
his  mind  the  immeasurable  difference  between 
himself  and  the  little  man  before  him.  He  a 
millionaire,  one  who  could  command  the 
choicest  things  of  earth;  the  other  a  man  in 
despair  because  he  had  lost  a  muskrat.  Did 
the  world  ever  furnish  a  more  striking  con 
trast  and  a  wider  difference  in  the  fortunes  of 
men? 

Then  Sharpe  advancing  towards  the  man 
asked  in  kindly  tones,  "May  I  ask  your 
name?" 

"  Pierre  Coma."  And  a  sudden  calm  came 
over  Pierre. 

"Where  do  you  live?" 
"  Down  by  ze  dam  at  ze  outlet." 
"Did  you  say  that  you  had  a  sick  child?" 
"Ouiloui!    Poor  little 'Toinette.     She  look 
for  her  pere  dis  meenit.     I  strak  ze  bad  luck. 


330       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

Everyting  he  go  agin  Pierre.  Will  Monsieur 
not  gif  poor  Pierre  the  muskrat  for  his  leele 
girl?" 

The  pleading  eyes  of  the  poor  father  touched 
the  heart  of  Sharpe.  "I  will  give  you  more. 
Come  with  me.  I  did  not  steal  your  rat,  but  cut 
him  out  and  gave  him  his  liberty.  I  could  not 
see  him  suffer  so.  Had  I  known  his  worth  to 
you  I  would  have  mercifully  killed  him." 

Coma,  like  most  foreigners,  understood 
English  much  more  readily  than  he  could  speak 
it.  And  both  by  words  and  tones  he  realized 
that  the  man  before  him  was  friendly  and 
meant  him  only  good. 

"Merci,  Monsieur;  merci,  merci.  Pierre 
he  was  a  beeg  blame  fool.  Monsieur,  grand, 
magnificent,  Pierre  should  know.  But  ze  bad 
luck  made  Pierre  fool.  He  f raid  that  ze  Holy 
Mother  had  forgotten  poor  Pierre.  He  pray 
for  her  help.  It  not  come." 

Sharpe  turned  quickly  saying,  "  Pray  again, 
Pierre,  and  she  will  hear."  And  Sharpe  paused 
and  Pierre  fell  on  his  knees  and  prayed. 

When  they  reached  the  camp  Sharpe  told 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        331 

his  man  to  sit  down  and  he  would  prepare  a 
breakfast  for  him. 

"  Non — non,  Monsieur.  'Toinette  she  cry 
her  eye  bad  out.  She  eat  before  her  pere. 
He  no  appetite  till  she  eat." 

"  Well,  Pierre,  here  are  two  partridges  that 
we  shot  last  night.  Take  these.  Are  you  a 
good  cook? " 

"  Bon  Dieu!  Pierre  he  mos  fine  cook.  Ze 
bird  he  good  for  Toinette." 

"Wait  a  moment,"  said  Sharpe  as  Pierre 
started  away  with  his  birds.  "  I  want  to  send 
your  little  'Toinette  some  other  things.  I 
must  make  up  to  you  for  that  lost  muskrat." 

The  shores  of  that  lake  might  have  seen  one 
of  New  York's  proudest  aristocrats  sharing  his 
stores,  waiting  and  serving  one  who  from  a 
social  point  stood  at  the  bottom  rung  of  the 
ladder.  So  this  man  of  wealth  and  conse 
quence  served  with  joy  and  satisfaction  the 
wretched  little  Frenchman,  "  a  waif  upon  the 
shores  of  time  and  chance." 

Sharpe  did  not  inform  Pierre  that  he  should 
break  camp  the  following  day,  but  told  him  to 


332        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

come  in  the  morning  as  he  wanted  to  hear  how 
his  little  girl  was  getting  along. 

He  had  noted  the  look  of  happiness  in 
Pierre's  face  and  thought  how  little  it  takes  to 
make  the  very  poor  happy. 

Somehow  Sharpe  was  glad  to  know  that  he 
was  not  alone,  and  when  the  night  settled  again 
and  spread  its  dark  curtain  over  the  waters  and 
the  wroods  he  knew  that  on  the  other  shore 
somewhere  were  'Toinette  and  her  father,  and 
the  thought  was  not  unpleasing. 

That  night  the  sleep  of  Lionel  Sharpe  was 
not  dreamless.  It  was  not  the  great  affairs  of 
life  that  passed  before  him  in  his  dreams,  but 
the  face  and  figure  of  the  grateful  Pierre 
Coma,  the  poor  drifting  vagabond  whose  mis 
fortune  had  somehow  touched  his  heart,  for 
under  all  the  outward  uncouthness — almost  re 
pulsive,  he  had  seen  the  pure  gold  of  a  father's 
love.  "  That  one  touch  of  nature  had  made 
them  kin." 

Sharpe  slept  late.  But  Pierre,  at  an  early 
hour,  had  crossed  over  and  drawn  his  canoe 
silently  upon  the  shore.  He  had  brought  three 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        333 

fine  trout,  caught  that  morning.  Very  quietly 
he  gathered  wood  for  the  fire,  and  as  quietly 
started  it.  He  brought  water,  filled  the  kettle 
and  hung  it  over  the  flames.  Going  to  the 
shore  he  dressed  the  fish  and  then  returning 
sat  down  to  wait  for  Sharpe.  He  soon  ap 
peared  at  the  door  of  the  tent,  and  to  his  sur 
prise  saw  'Toinette's  father  seated  upon  the 
ground  before  the  fire,  happy  and  triumphant; 
for  had  not  the  Holy  Mother  heard  his  prayer 
and  sent  him  food  and  a  friend?  Were  not 
the  eyes  of  his  little  'Toinette  bright  again  and 
his  cabin  made  joyous  with  her  song? 

Who  would  take  from  these  poor  simple 
children  of  nature  their  blessed  comforting 
faith? 

The  two  men  ate  their  breakfast  together. 
No  caste  obtained  that  day.  Out  of  their  tin 
plates  and  cups  each  man  ate  and  drank — the 
millionaire  and  the  moneyless. 

Pierre's  love  for  his  child  had  leveled  all 
things,  all  distinctions,  and  struck  straight  into 
the  heart  of  Lionel  Sharpe.  When  night  had 
come  again  Pierre  Coma  felt  that  he  was  a  rich 


334        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

man.  For  had  he  not  enough  to  eat  for  many 
days,  and  had  he  not  money?  "Oui,  oui." 
Two  ten-dollar  bills,  one  for  Pierre,  and  one 
for  little  Toinette.  The  Holy  Mother  had 
indeed  smiled  on  that  little  family  in  the  woods 
and  they  were  happy,  and  Lionel  Sharpe  was 
happy  too,  though  he  knew  not  why.  He  had 
learned  something  deep  and  profound,  viz.: 
That  there  was  a  common  plane  of  humanity 
on  which  all  the  children  of  God  could  meet, 
and  that  love  "  could  climb  over  all  castes,  all 
distinctions,  and  claim  its  own." 


CHAPTER  XIX 

A  from  the  brain  of  Jupiter,  Minerva 
sprang  fully  armed,  so  from  out  of 
the  woods  of  Maine  sprang  the  virgin 
city  of  Millinocket  equipped  with  life.  On 
plain  and  prairie,  on  lake  shore  and  ocean 
front,  cities  have  sprung  into  instant  entity, 
begotten  by  the  feculent  and  compelling 
blood  of  a  nation.  But  far  removed  from  the 
central  heartbeat  of  the  land,  and  where  it 
would  seem  that  no  seed  had  been  planted,  in  a 
dreary  wilderness  and  amidst  the  icy  currents 
of  the  north,  was  born  this  vigorous  child, 
unheralded  and  unprophesied. 

Two  years  have  passed  since  Gould  began 
his  labors  at  Millinocket.  He  had  brought  to 
this  unique  city  youth  and  vigor,  trained 
muscles,  educated  faculties,  and  a  high  pur 
pose.  He  had  come  in  a  good  time.  All  things 
seemed  awaiting  his  advent.  In  less  than  six 

335 


336        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

months  the  great  corporation  congratulated 
itself  on  having  secured  the  services  of  so  re 
markably  capable  a  man.  At  the  end  of  the 
year  he  was  made  general  manager  of  the 
great  enterprise,  and  all  things  were  referred 
to  him  as  to  a  court  of  last  assize.  His  salary 
had  been  doubled,  and  he  was  recognized  as  a 
power  to  be  dealt  with.  But  never  did  his 
quiet  modesty  forsake  him,  nor  his  natural  dig 
nity.  His  executive  ability  was  great,  but  there 
was  no  bluster,  no  loud  words.  Lumbert  had 
become  one  of  his  trusted  lieutenants,  as  had 
Jim  Gramme.  Albert  Crosby  was  secretary 
of  the  company;  and  the  handsome,  cheerful, 
music-loving  Henri  Fornier  was  Gould's  de 
voted  servitor,  trusted  and  never  failing. 

In  a  cove  on  the  south  shore  of  the  lake 
and  nearly  half  a  mile  from  the  town  Gould 
had  built  a  comfortable  log  house,  containing 
one  large  room  and  three  bedrooms.  A  kitchen 
adjoined  the  main  house.  In  this  somewhat 
retired  home  Gould  studied  and  planned  his 
work  for  the  company.  Here  were  kept  his 
charts  and  maps,  here  were  drafted  the  great 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        337 

buildings  and  plans  of  mills,  and  here  the 
directors  met  to  counsel  with  him.  There  was 
a  general  office  in  the  city,  of  which  Albert 
was  in  charge.  He  was  the  one  man  who  was 
always  in  touch  with  his  chief,  but  so  great  was 
the  demand  of  Gould's  time  that  Albert 
was  left  to  judge  whether  or  not  the  caller  had 
business  of  sufficient  importance  to  warrant 
his  chief's  attention.  Thus  was  Superin 
tendent  Gould  guarded  by  his  secretary 
from  many  draughts  on  his  strength  and  time 
that  would  have  been  fruitless  of  results  for 
the  company. 

Henri  was  the  trusted  factotum  of  the  super 
intendent's  bungalow,  as  well  as  its  light  and 
joy.  It  was  a  delightful  place,  and  the  great 
men  of  the  company  found  in  it  a  restfulness 
— a  something  which  made  them  loath  to  leave 
the  place.  It  contained  a  good  piano,  many 
pictures,  and  more  than  a  thousand  books 
which  Gould  had  gathered,  and  on  the  wall, 
from  a  common  nail,  hung  Henri's  violin,  with 
which  at  times  he  would  "  witch  the  air  "  with 
his  French  hornpipes,  reels,  jigs,  waltzes  and 


338       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

the  quaint  airs  of  his  home- folk  that  he  had 
learned  when  a  child  at  Basin  Minas.  The 
good  taste  of  Gould  and  the  aptitude  of 
Henri  had  resulted  in  making  the  superin 
tendent's  bungalow  the  most  popular  resort 
in  town.  It  had  become  known  through  Henri 
that  Gould  was  a  violinist  of  rare  power,  and 
Henry  Hooven,  the  big,  breezy,  good-natured 
president  of  the  company,  worth  his  millions, 
never  seemed  so  happy  as  when  he  was  able  to 
steal  away  from  his  apartments  at  the  hotel 
and  come,  with  his  idolized  daughter  Dolly, 
and  sit  before  the  great  fire  that  was  eating 
away  the  four- foot  logs.  He  would  stretch  out 
his  feet,  load  up  a  fresh  T.  D.  pipe,  loll  back 
in  the  big  chair  made  of  native  wood,  and  listen 
while  Henri  would  play  and  dance  with  a  grace 
and  skill  known  only  to  children  of  his  blood. 
Dolly  would  laugh  in  her  frank,  sweet  way, 
and  say  to  her  father:  "  Papa,  build  me  a  bung 
alow  right  here,  and  get  a  little  Frenchman  like 
Henri  who  can  cook  and  dance  just  as  he  can. 
I  should  be  happy,  and  could  have  you  with 
me."  And  she  would  put  her  arms  around  her 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        339 

father's  neck  and  kiss  his  round,  red  face. 
The  wifeless  old  man  would  look  into  her  brown 
eyes  and  see  there  the  same  light  of  love  that 
looked  out  upon  him  so  many  happy  years 
from  her  mother's  eyes. 

"Dolly,  do  you  really  want  a  bungalow?" 
'Yes,  and  a  big  one,  so  that  I  can  have 
my  friends  come  down  and  show  them  what  a 
dear  papa  I  have  got,  how  beautiful  the  woods 
and  waters  are,  and  how  happy  people  can  be 
here  in  a  log  house  without  butlers,  maids,  and 
other  tiresome  things  that  make  so  much 
trouble  and  add  so  little  to  real  life." 

"  My  dear,  you  shall  have  one  as  soon  as  our 
superintendent  can  spare  the  time  to  attend  to 
its  building.  Wouldn't  you  like  to  hear  Mr. 
Gould  play,  Dolly?  His  playing  is  like  my 
old  parson's  prayers,  which  I  feel  the  need  of 
occasionally." 

"  Oh,  yes.     But  he  is  so  busy." 

"I  am  still  the  boss!  He  worked  half  the 
night,  and  will  to-night  if  you  don't  prevent  it. 
Go  and  tell  him  that  the  president  of  the  com 
pany  wants  to  see  him."  And  Dolly  went 


tripping  across  the  fur-rugged  floor  into  the 
draughting  room,  where  Gould  was  work 
ing.  In  a  few  moments  she  came  back  pulling 
him  along  by  one  hand  and  holding  in  the  other 
Henri's  violin. 

"  I  knew  what  papa  wanted,  Mr.  Gould, 
so  I  brought  this  with  me.  You  play  and  I 
will  sit  down  on  this  bear  skin  and  fold  myself 
up  like  a  'Dutch  tailor,'  as  papa  says.  He's 
Dutch  himself,  you  know.  Hooven  is  awful 
Dutch,"  and  the  unspoiled  child  of  wealth  sank 
upon  the  bear  skin,  folded  her  hands  on  her  lap 
and  looked  up  into  the  handsome  face  above 
her,  and  said,  with  perfect  alertness: 

'The  princess  will  hear  her  prince,  while 
the  great  king  snores.' ' 

Hooven  was  quite  in  the  habit,  under  the 
influence  of  the  music  and  fire,  of  falling 
asleep,  and  his  daughter  had  often  chided  him 
for  doing  so. 

"  It's  a  compliment  to  him,  Dolly.  He  does 
with  his  violin  what  a  whole  orchestra  cannot 
do.  Let  the  band  play,"  he  said  with  mock 
gravity. 


Gould  would  play  under  these  circum 
stances  for  these  two  congenial  spirits,  with  a 
passion  and  feeling  that  would  seem  to  make 
the  rude  log  room  blossom  with  emotion  and 
give  to  the  rough  surroundings  a  spiritual  sig 
nificance  unrecognized  and  unsuspected  save 
by  the  devotees  of  the  heavenly  art. 

When  the  music  ceased  Dolly  said: 

"  I  suppose  you  must  come  back  to  earth  and 
go  to  work.  I  thank  you  so  much.  Lo,  the 
king  snores!"  and  she  pointed  to  her  father, 
lost  in  sleep. 

When  Gould  went  Dolly  followed  him 
to  the  door  of  the  draughting  room,  and  said: 

"Mr.  Gould,  I  have  some  New  York 
friends  coming  here  in  about  two  months,  all 
very  nice  people,  but  I  want  to  warn  you 
against  the  wiles  of  Miss  Lucia  Van  Allen. 
She  is  a  perfect  heart-breaker,  very  beautiful, 
very  proud,  very  rich.  She  has  had  more  men 
at  her  feet  than  any  woman  in  New  York. 
Some  of  them  I  have  really  pitied.  I  should 
feel  bad  to  see  our  Mr.  Gould  suffer.  Lucia 
is  not  to  blame.  She  can't  help  it.  Promise 


342        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

me  that  you  will  keep  heart  free.  Will  you? 
I  am  very  young,  I  know,  but  I  am  very  wise. 
Do  you  promise?" 

"  Certainly,  I  think  I  can  safely  do  so,  having 
your  good  father,  together  with  your  wise  self, 
to  guard  me.  By  the  way,  I  shall  begin  on 
the  plans  for  your  little  log  village  to-night,  to 
comprise  a  large  assembly  room  connected  with 
a  dining-room  and  five  little  private  log  houses 
for  sleeping  apartments." 

"  O,  won't  that  be  jolly !  How  soon  can  you 
have  them  ready?" 

"  In  thirty  to  forty  days." 

"Just  the  right  time  to  receive  my  friends. 
I  trust  you  will  do  everything.  Have  one  of 
the  houses  set  over  the  water  so  that  I  can  lie 
in  bed  and  fish  through  the  floor.  That  will 
make  the  other  girls  just  green  with  envy!" 

And  the  light-hearted  girl,  on  whose  head 
the  sunshine  of  seventeen  summers  rested,  sped 
out  of  the  bungalow  towards  the  hotel;  leav 
ing  her  father  snoring  blissfully  in  his  chair. 

The  mail  that  day  brought  Gould  a  letter 
from  Sharpe. 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        343 

"  DEAR  GOULD: — It  appears  that  your  father  did  not 
formally  disinherit  you.  His  will  made  no  mention  of 
you.  His  widow  can  scarcely  be  said  to  be  inconsol 
able.  Strange  to  say,  she  has  requested  me  to  take 
charge  of  her  affairs,  professionally.  She  has  done 
more.  She  wants  to  place  in  your  possession  every 
dollar  of  the  property  left  her  by  her  late  husband,  except 
enough  to  maintain  her  in  moderate  comfort.  She  has 
conducted  herself  with  dignity  since  your  father's 
death.  In  an  interview  she  said  to  me:  '  I  have 
wronged  the  son  of  my  late  husband.  As  far  as  it  lies 
in  my  power  I  want  to  make  amends  to  him.  I  drove 
him  from  his  father's  house  and  favor.  I  did  more:  I 
drove  him  from  my  presence  with  cruel  and  unjust 
words.  Through  me,  not  knowingly,  he  was  denied  his 
inheritance.  I  must  in  some  way  possess  him  of  what 
is  rightfully  his.  Will  you  help  me?  '  I  replied  that 
I  did  not  think  you  expected  or  would  accept  any  part 
of  your  father's  estate,  much  less  that  which  had  been 
left  to  her;  that  I  knew  that  you  bore  her  no  ill-will, 
but  believed  that  it  was  her  words  that  had  shown  you 
the  folly  of  the  life  you  were  leading;  that  you  were 
now  happy  and  prosperous,  and  could  not  be  induced 
to  return  to  the  old  life.  The  interview  ended,  but 
remarkable  as  it  may  appear  to  you,  I  am  learning  to 
respect  this  woman. 

"  A  few  more  things  that  may  interest  you:  Your 
brother  Wallace  is  a  hopeless  drunkard,  and  is  going 


straight  to  the  '  bow-wows.'  Mrs.  Major  Crosby 
returns  to  America  on  the  next  steamer,  leaving  Miss 
Lois  in  Paris  with  her  relatives.  This  you  may  know, 
but  probably  you  do  not  know  that  this  comely  Ameri 
can  girl,  fresh  from  the  woods,  has  made  a  sensation 
in  Paris.  '  She  is  something  new,  fresh,  natural, 
unique/  as  one  of  the  society  papers  puts  it.  There  is 
a  rumor  that  a  certain  Count  Mowbray — poor  fool — 
has  fallen  '  many  fathoms  deep  '  in  love  with  her. 
God  pity  him !  She  is  to  come  home  in  the  spring, 
probably  spoiled.  As  we  found  her  in  her  home  nest 
among  the  pines  she  was  the  rarest  specimen  of  a 
woman  I  ever  met.  What  a  pity  that  she  could  not 
have  been  tethered  there! 

"  Twenty-one  schoolhouses  finished  in  Maine ; 
twenty  more  building.  A  thousand  or  more  little 
Yankees  comfortable  and  happy  within  their  walls,  and 
as  many  adults  mystified  and  perturbed,  wondering  in 
their  curious  way  who  the  fool  is  that  is  building  them; 
while  the  fool  himself  is  having  mountains  of  satisfac 
tion  as  he  sees  '  in  his  mind's  eye  '  that  group  around 
the  Squire's  fireside,  and  other  similar  groups,  surmis 
ing,  conjecturing,  guessing,  piling  divination  on  hy 
pothesis,  supposition  on  theory,  and  notion  on  surmise, 
to  the  end  of  the  chapter.  The  picture  abounds  with  the 
serio-comic.  It  never  fails  to  delight  me. 

"  I  sent  the  Major  $500  for  his  services.  He  returned 
the  draft,  and  sent  a  bill  for  expenses  and  one  dollar 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        345 

a  day  for  the  time  that  he  worked,  amounting  in  all  to 
$175.  He  must  have  carried  his  dinner,  or  camped  out. 
I  am  planning  my  revenge.  The  little  Chateau  I  am 
building  at  Sunny  Point,  on  the  Major's  land,  I  shall 
present  to  him  with  my  compliments  when  it  is  finished, 
which  I  hope  will  be  in  time  for  him  to  receive  the 
possible  Countess  Mowbray.  I  think  I  could  have  for 
given  you,  Jay,  if  you  had  fallen  in  love  with  that  scion 
of  the  de  Neumoirs.  Just  imagine  the  Major's  aston 
ishment  when  he  gets  a  deed  of  Chateau  de  Neumoirs! 
I  will  come  down  some  time,  if  you'll  urge  me  just  a 
little.  Yours,  SHARPE. 

"  P.  S.  We  are  working  on  the  Maine  statesmen. 
If  they  should  become  as  wise  and  eloquent  in  matters 
that  concern  their  own  State  as  they  are  in  matters  that 
concern  the  nation,  there  may  be  a  Katahdin  reservation 
of  a  million  acres,  guarded  and  cared  for  by  the 
United  States." 

Gould  was  aware  of  a  feeling  of  great 
depression  after  reading  Sharpe's  letter.  The 
words  "  Countess  Mowbray,"  seemed  stamped 
upon  his  mind.  He  could  see  them.  Would 
she  not  grace  the  title?  But  did  she  not  love 
him?  Had  she  not  revealed  her  secret  that 
night  at  Joey's  bedside?  Why  should  he  think 


346       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

of  her?  The  answer  came  to  him,  "Because 
you  love  her,  and  like  a  selfish  coward  you 
allowed  her  to  go  into  the  world  without  a  look 
of  love,  a  pressure  of  the  hand,  a  sign  of  any 
kind.  Now  you  have  lost  her  i  She  will  meet 
with  nobler  men  who  will  be  wise  enough  to 
appreciate  her  charms  and  faultless  woman 
hood." 

"How  blind  I  have  been,"  he  thought. 
"  Had  I  but  spoken  one  word  on  that  night, 
when  our  hearts  were  made  tender  by  a  com 
mon  grief,  our  fate  might  have  been  changed. 
I  know  now  that  I  loved  her  from  the  hour  I 
first  heard  her  sweet  voice  saying,  'Are  you 
sick,  sir?  Can  I  help  you?'  and  again  the 
same  voice  with  sorrow  and  agony  in  it,  '  Oh ! 
uncle,  uncle!  You  have  killed  him!  You  have 
killed  him!'" 

The  thought  that  she  once  loved  him  gave 
him  hope.  Could  such  a  woman  love  again  in 
a  few  short  months,  even  a  count?  Her 
mother  had  loved  a  man  whose  worldly  pros 
pects  were  not  brilliant,  and  had  followed  him 
through  all  the  trials  that  had  beset  their  path 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        347 

with  unfaltering  devotion.  The  father's 
heart  he  knew  to  be  a  mine  of  purest  affection. 

Thi^  thought  comforted  him.  He  would 
wait  and  hope.  But  should  they  meet  again, 
and  he  discover  that  she  had  remained  constant 
to  her  unspoken  love,  he  would  atone  for  his 
cold  neglect. 

"  Gould,"  said  a  voice,  which  he  knew  to 
be  that  of  his  chief,  "  I  want  to  speak  to  you  on 
a  very  confidential  matter." 

;'What  is  it,  Mr.  Hooven?  I  assure  you 
your  confidence  shall  be  held  sacred." 

"  Gould,  there  is  a  matter  that  troubles  me. 
I  am  afraid  that  my  Dolly  is  gradually  learn 
ing  to  think  very  much  of  your  secretary,  Mr. 
Crosby.  They  have  been  much  together,  and 
he  is  calculated  to  attract  any  young  girl.  I 
have  noted  with  surprise  his  quiet  manners,  his 
ease  and  grace,  his  manly  beauty,  and  a  cer 
tain  indefinite  magnetism  which  leads  all  men, 
as  well  as  women,  to  become  his  friends  and 
believe  in  him.  I  am  not  one  of  those  proud 
old  fools  who  think  that  wealth  is  everything, 
and  character  nothing.  But  my  Dolly's  hap- 


piness  is  all  I  am  living  for,  since  her  mother's 
death,  and  for  her  to  make  an  unfortunate  alli 
ance  would  break  my  heart.  You  must  know 
all  about  this  man  Crosby;  his  character,  his 
parentage,  the  trend  of  his  mind,  and  what 
they  presage." 

"  Mr.  Hooven,  your  question  is  a  serious  one. 
I  will  answer  you  in  part  in  the  words  of 
Miranda  when  she  looked  upon  Prince  Ferdi 
nand.  She  saw  in  Ferdinand,  with  the  pre 
science  of  a  woman's  soul,  what  your  daughter 
sees  in  Mr.  Crosby: 

'  There's  nothing  ill  can  dwell  in  such  a  temple ; 
If  the  ill  spirit  have  so  fair  a  house, 
Good  things  will   strive  to   dwell  with't.' 

"My  own  convictions  are  these:  Albert 
Crosby  possesses  many  manly  attributes.  He 
is  a  pure-souled,  honorable  man.  He  comes 
from  good  stock  on  both  sides  of  his  house. 
He  is  a  man  of  unusual  promise,  and  my  trust 
in  him  is  unlimited." 

The  father  grasped  the  hand  of  Gould, 
saying,  "You  have  lifted  a  burden  from  my 


heart.  Wise  little  Dolly!  She  saw  Crosby's 
'  visage  in  his  mind,'  as  did  Desdemona." 

Gould  was  alone  again,  and  his  thoughts 
went  back  to  Lois  and  to  Sunny  Point,  the 
place  which  his  heart  called  home.  Lois  was 
not  there,  but  he  would  drive  over  to  Falling 
Water  the  following  Saturday.  He  went,  and 
once  more  sat  with  the  group  around  the 
Squire's  hearthstone,  heard  again  the  quaint 
conceits  of  Jake  and  John,  Bige  and  Lige; 
and  night  found  him  sitting  with  the  Major 
by  the  cheerful  fire  of  that  home  to  which 
less  than  three  years  ago  he  had  come  as  a 
wanderer. 

The  Major  was  looking  forward  with  joy 
to  the  arrival  of  his  wife.  He  explained  to 
Gould  the  progress  of  that  work  he  and  the 
Squire  were  doing,  the  amusing  efforts  of  the 
people  of  the  various  towns  to  find  out  who 
their  benefactor  was.  Nothing  had  trans 
pired,  and  it  still  remained  a  secret. 

Dolly's  log  settlement  was  all  finished 
when  her  friends  arrived  from  New  York. 
Miss  Lucia  Van  Allen  pronounced  the  whole 


350       JAY   GOULD    HARMON 

thing  "rudely  charming,"  quite  to  her  taste, 
and  beyond  her  expectations.  Dolly  had 
promptly  dubbed  the  place  "Little  Milli- 
nocket,"  and  her  friends  as  the  "pilgrims." 
There  were  six  of  these  "  pilgrims,"  including 
Miss  Lucia  Van  Allen,  Russell  Van  Allen,  who 
was  short,  fat,  full  of  fun,  good-natured,  and 
democratic.  He  loved  his  beautiful  sister, 
but  delighted  in  tormenting  her,  and  would  call 
her  "  Sis  "  to  her  great  chagrin.  The  more  she 
scolded,  the  more  he  persisted  in  it,  until  she 
gave  it  up  as  hopeless.  Augustus  Ferguson, 
—whom  Russell  had  dubbed  "  A.  F.," — who 
was  the  reputed  fiance  of  the  stately  Lucia. 
He  was  a  young  man  of  fine  appearance,  but 
with  a  hauteur  that  was  entirely  lost  on  the 
plain  people  of  that  community.  Sarah  Jones 
was  another  of  the  sextette ;  a  counterfeit  pre 
sentment  of  "  our  Dolly,"  at  least  in  character 
and  spirit.  Her  hair  was  raven  black,  her  eyes 
black  and  sparkling,  her  cheeks  the  "roses' 
hue,"  and  her  teeth  a  double  bank  of  white 
pearls.  Whenever  she  laughed,  talked,  or 
cried,  they  were  in  evidence ;  and  when  she  and 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        351 

her  friend  Dolly  graced  the  streets  of  the  little 
city  they  were  the  sunshine,  not  of  "Paradise 
Alley,"  but  of  woodsy  Millinocket. 

There  was  Lucia's  maid,  Cynthia  Small, 
quite  forty  years  of  age,  who  was  supposed  to 
act  as  chaperon  as  well  as  maid.  She  affected 
something  of  her  mistress'  manners. 

Lettie  Goddard  was  slender  and  pale.  Her 
eyes  were  brilliant  and  large,  her  expression 
intense  but  spiritual,  while  on  her  cheeks 
glowed  the  sinister  flag  of  the  consumptive. 
At  first  the  observer  would  think  her  very 
plain,  but  when  she  sat  at  the  piano  and  the 
inspiration  of  music  lit  up  her  face  there  was 
something  of  the  angel  in  it.  She  was  a  musi 
cian  that  heaven  had  endowed,  and  the  great 
room  became  a  chamber  of  harmonies  when 
ever  she  played. 


CHAPTER  XX 

GOULD  was  away  on  a  northern 
trip  attending  to  business  for  the 
corporation  when  the  "  pilgrims " 
arrived.  Albert  and  Henri  kept  his  house. 
Henri  at  once  became  a  favorite  with  all 
at  "  Millinocket  Junior,"  as  the  indolent 
Russell  had  named  it.  The  women  of  the 
party  made  constant  demands  upon  his  time, 
and  every  evening  they  had  a  hop  in  "Cedar 
Hall,"  as  the  dining-room  was  called.  Miss 
Goddard  would  accompany  him  as  best  she 
could  through  the  wild  reels,  waltzes,  polkas 
and  mazourkas  which  he  improvised  from 
many  quaint  French  airs. 

"De  violon,"  he  would  say,  "spik  wid  me 
lak  she  diable.  Mak  de  lady  and  de  man  hop 

—one,  two,  three;  mak  'em  laf — so ,"  and 

he  would  smile  all  over  his  face. 

"  Mons.  Gould  sometime  he  come  und  tak 

352 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        353 

dat  violon.  Ah!  violon  he  change.  Diable? 
Non!  Le  beau  ange,  he  come;  ze  grande  organ, 
she  come;  ze  wet  tear,  she  come.  Everybody 
ver'  happy — mos'  awfu'  happy.  Everybody 
he  cry,  mos'  awfu'  cry.  Henri  feel  he  no 
good,  want  break  violon  his  head  top.  Zee 
Mademoiselle  Goddard  sure  enough  never  hear 
le  Mons.  Gould  play  on  dat  violon?  Mon 
Dieu!  He  mak  you  happy;  ze  tear  go  down 
outside,  one,  two,  three.  Poor  Henri,  he  seek. 
No  play  more  when  he  hear  le  Monsieur." 

Henri  had  worked  up  a  great  curiosity 
among  the  "  pilgrims,"  and  a  desire  to  see  this 
wonderful  Gould,  and  to  hear  him  play. 
Dolly  had  corroborated  all  that  Henri  had 
said.  But  the  piquant  patois  of  the  little 
Frenchman  had  advertised  Gould  in  ad 
vance  of  his  arrival,  and  given  an  anticipatory 
relish  more  than  columns  in  newspapers  could 
have  done,  or  hours  of  choice  speech.  When 
it  was  announced  at  Cedar  Hall  by  Russell 
that  Gould  had  arrived — and  he  could  prove 
it,  because  he  had  pulled  him  out  of  a  bark  vat 
into  which  he  had  fallen,  with  a  white  flannel 


suit  on,  coming  out  with  a  handsome  brownish 
red — there  was  quite  a  commotion  at  the  table. 
All  evinced  more  or  less  delight,  except  Miss 
Lucia  and  the  reticent  Ferguson. 

Miss  Lucia  said:  "I  am  quite  prepared  to 
dislike  this  too-perfect  Gould.  I  have  heard 
nothing  from  Dolly  and  others  but  gushing 
eulogies  on  this  man  Gould.  I  really  can't 
understand  how  one  who  is  just  a  common 
superintendent  of  papermills  and  lumber  yards 
can  be  of  so  much  account.  He  may  be  use 
ful  and  all  that,  quite  handy  round,  you  know, 
but  hardly  one  of  us." 

"  Oh,  Lucia,"  cried  Dolly,  "  you  do  an  in 
justice  to  Mr.  Gould.  He's  a  real  gentleman. 
He  can  do  anything,  father  says.  He  planned 
these  houses  and  all  the  mills." 

"  Oh,  I  dare  say,"  spoke  up  Ferguson,  "  that 
he  also  planned  the  horse  hovel  made  of  logs, 
back  here  in  the  woods;  and  all  that  sort  of 
thing,  doncher  know." 

"I  say,  Sis,"  broke  in  Russell,  "you  and 
A.  F.  better  go  and  soak  yourselves  in  bark 
juice  same  as  I  did,  and  when  you  come  out 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        355 

you'll  have  a  little  sense.  I  never  saw  this 
manager  until  he  pulled  me  out  of  that  hem 
lock  vat,  but  I  want  to  tell  you  he'd  just  beat 
clear  out  of  his  boots — excuse  my  elegant  fig 
ure  of  speech,  Sis — that  fellow  that  used  to 
pose  for  an  '  Adonis.'  He's  got  a  face  like  a 
Greek  god,  and  if  I'm  not  greatly  mistaken 
my  proud  sister  will  have  the  heartache  before 
a  week;  eh,  Dolly?" 

"  Now  I  know  I  shall  hate  him,"  said  Lucia. 
"  He  thinks  that  every  woman  he  meets  is  sure 
to  fall  in  love  with  him;  but  I  will  show  him 
that  there  is  one  woman  who  will  not.  Dolly, 
I  don't  care  to  be  introduced  to  this  man.  His 
very  name  has  become  hateful  to  me." 

"  I  quite  agree  with  you,  Miss  Van  Allen," 
chimed  in  Ferguson. 

'You  must  have  eaten  of  the  insane  root, 
both  of  you,"  broke  in  Russell.  "  I  wager  my 
Boston  bull,  Grover  C,  that  before  you  leave 
Millinocket  you'll  change  your  minds  and  be 
as  eager  to  do  this  man  justice,  just  plain 
everyday  justice,  as  you  are  now  to  discredit 
him." 


356        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

This  was  said  with  considerable  asperity,  and 
when  he  had  finished  Dolly  clapped  her  hands, 
crying  out:  "You  are  just  splendid,  Russell 
Van  Allen !  If  you  were  my  sweetheart  or  my 
brother  I  would  kiss  you." 

"Don't  you  dare  do  it,  Dolly;  but  I  would 
rather  than  seven  dollars  you  would.  As  for 
being  your  sweetheart,  I  have  loved  you  and 
Sarah  and  four  other  girls  for  more  than  three 
years  and  some  months  with  a  passion  that  is 
consuming  me." 

The  subject  was  changed.  A  canoe  ride 
was  planned  for  the  next  day,  a  visit  to  the 
great  paper  mills  the  day  following,  and  a  pic 
nic  in  the  woods  early  the  following  week. 

A  basket  of  wild  flowers  had  been  sent  in,  a 
dozen  of  the  latest  magazines,  together  with 
Puck,  Judge,  Truth,  and  a  beautiful  bouquet 
of  cut  flowers  marked  "Dolly,"  but  with  no 
name  attached.  The  dear  girl  knew  who  sent 
the  flowers,  for  "Albert"  was  on  every  leaf 
and  petal. 

The  morning  following  the  evening  on 
which  Gould  had  played  at  Cedar  Hall,  and, 


Dolly  could  not  conceal  her  joy  at  having  her  graceful  lover 
near  her  " 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        357 

as  Russell  had  said,  "  Sis  "  had  taken  her  sec 
ond  degree,  a  picnic  had  been  arranged. 
Superintendent  Gould  had  sent  over  the  com 
pany's  steam  launch,  in  charge  of  Albert 
Crosby  and  Gramme.  Dolly  and  all  her 
friends,  including  quite  a  number  of  people 
who  were  stopping  at  the  hotel,  were  to  have  a 
New  England  dinner  on  the  farther  shore, 
ten  miles  away.  Dolly  could  not  conceal  her 
joy  at  having  her  graceful  lover  near  her. 
Russell  was  at  his  best.  His  eyes  shone  with 
a  bold  roguishness  peculiar  to  them  when  he 
saw  "  fun  ahead."  He  "  bossed  "  everybody, 
but  with  perfect  inoffensiveness. 

As  he  stood  on  the  little  dock  and  looked 
across  the  shining  waters  to  the  still  woods 
beyond,  his  boyish  spirits  rose  high,  and  he 
raised  his  voice  in  three  prolonged  whoops, 
which  he  said  meant,  when  translated  into  the 
original  Penobscot,  "We  thank  thee,  O  thou 
great  copper-colored  Spirit  of  the  North,  for 
the  privilege  of  using  your  woods,  your  sun 
shine,  and  your  waters  this  day." 

"Perhaps  you  don't  think  I  meant  that, 


358       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

Sarah,"  he  continued,  half  seriously,  "but  I 
really  do.  I  never  thought  of  being  thankful 
to  anyone  for  brick  houses  or  stone  fronts, 
automobiles  or  steam  yachts,  for  money  can 
buy  them;  but  money  can't  buy  this.  Here  is 
liquid  air  for  you,  and  yonder  is  something 
grander  than  the  forest  of  Arden." 

He  was  interrupted  in  his  rhapsody  by  his 
sister,  who  came  running  down  looking 
troubled.  He  met  her  and  said  in  a  low  voice : 

"Where's  Gus?" 

"  Mr.  Ferguson,"  she  replied  stiffly,  "  will  not 
picnic  with  us  to-day.  He's  been  quite  unen 
durable  this  morning.  He  had  the  effrontery 
to  tell  me  that  my  conduct  last  night  did  not 
please  him.  I  suppose  he  had  reference  to  my 
shaking  hands  with  Mr.  Gould.  I  informed 
him  I  would  try  to  survive  his  displeasure,  add 
ing  there  was  but  one  thing  that  would  mar  the 
happy  prospects  of  the  day,  and  that  was  that 
Mr.  Gould  could  not  be  with  us.  He  fairly 
glared  at  me,  and  he  looked  absolutely  savage 
as  he  said :  '  I  have  a  matter  to  settle  with  Mr. 
Gould,  and  will  take  advantage  of  your  ab- 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        359 

sence  to  do  so.'  There  he  goes  now,  towards 
Mr.  Gould's  bungalow.  I  wonder  if  he  will 
have  the  temerity  to  insult  a  man  who  is  doing 
so  much  for  us.  Russell,  hadn't  you  better 
follow  him?" 

There  was  a  troubled  expression  in  her  eyes, 
for  she  knew  that  the  rage  that  possessed  her 
lover  grew  out  of  his  love  for  her — a  love  which 
she  had  encouraged,  and  might  have  returned 
in  time,  had  not  this  inordinate  jealousy  made 
it  difficult  to  do  so." 

'You  go  and  tell  Mr.  Crosby,"  said  her 
brother,  "to  take  the  launch  over  to  the  point 
of  rocks  where  you  took  your  'first  degree/ 
and  wait  for  me.  I  don't  like  the  looks  of 
things."  And  he  moved  swiftly  towards  the 
bungalow.  As  he  entered  the  door  into  the 
main  room,  he  heard  Ferguson  say: 

"Oh!  you  can  equivocate,  but  you  won't 
fight.  I  have  asked  you  for  the  satisfaction 
of  a  gentleman." 

Then  he  heard  Gould's  calm  reply : 

'You  have  asked  for  the  satisfaction  of  a 
brute,  of  a  prize  fighter,  Mr.  Ferguson.  If 


360       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

my  conduct  does  not  please  you,  you  can  easily 
pass  out  of  my  presence  and  beyond  the  limit 
of  my  influence." 

The  calm,  steady  voice  of  Gould  mad 
dened  Ferguson,  who  hissed  out : 

"  If  I  can't  insult  you  with  words,  possibly 
this  way—  '  and  he  struck  Gould  sharply 
across  the  face. 

In  another  moment  Ferguson  lay  prostrate 
upon  the  floor.  Gould  had  struck  the  infu 
riated  man  a  harder  blow  than  he  realized. 
When  Ferguson  went  down  his  head  came  vio 
lently  in  contact  with  one  of  the  lower  logs 
forming  the  building. 

The  affair  had  taken  place  just  as  Russell 
had  rushed  in  to  interfere.  In  a  moment  he 
was  at  the  side  of  his  prostrate  friend.  He 
saw  at  once  that  Ferguson  was  stunned,  not 
hurt,  for  he  soon  looked  about  in  a  dazed  man 
ner,  and  finally  said: 

"I  say,  what's  happened?" 

'  Why,  you  damn  fool,"  replied  the  excited 
Russell,  "  you've  gone  and  taken  the  '  third  de 
gree,'  and  skipped  the  second.  It's  mighty 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        361 

bad  form,  old  fellow,  and  you  will  find  it  so. 
Get  up  and  sit  in  that  chair  and  let  me  talk  to 

you." 

With  the  assistance  of  Gould  they  placed 
him  in  one  of  the  chairs.  Gould  then  went 
into  the  draughting  room. 

Ferguson  did  not  seem  to  be  quite  in  pos 
session  of  himself.  He  rubbed  his  eyes  and 
head,  and  looked  about  without  any  apparent 
knowledge  of  where  he  was,  or  of  what  had 
happened.  There  was  a  red  spot  on  the  side 
of  his  jaw  where  he  had  received  the  blow. 
This  he  would  unconsciously  rub  with  his  hand, 
still  looking  around. 

"  Our  Russell "  stepped  back  a  few  feet,  and 
opened  upon  him  after  this  fashion: 

"Of  all  the  consummate  asses  that  ever  I 
met,  when  he  starts  in  to  be  one,  commend  me 
to  one  Augustus  Ferguson  of  New  York  City. 
Do  you  hear  me,  Gus?" 

His  friend  rolled  his  eyes  and  looked  at  him, 
but  said  nothing. 

Russell  continued:  "A  few  minutes  ago 
there  were  twenty-five  happy  people  about  to 


362        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

start  out  for  a  day  of  pleasure.  There  did 
not  seem  to  be  a  cloud  in  the  sky.  The  day 
was  full  of  promise.  But  among  them  was 
one  jealous  fool.  They  had  not  reckoned 
upon  the  capacity  of  such  an  idiot  to  upset  the 
plans  and  ruin  the  prospects  of  the  rest  of  the 
party.  Gus,  the  fool,  was  there,  and  he  had 
the  capacity  to  do  the  mischief.  You  were  the 
fool,  and  you  have  done  the  mischief.  Now, 
let  me  tell  you  something  more:  You  will 
never  become  a  member  of  the  Van  Allen  fam 
ily  with  my  consent.  You  are  not  fit  to  be  a 
valet  for  a  pig-sticker.  You've  disgraced  us 
all,  and  insulted  the  man  who  was  doing  all  he 
could  to  befriend  us,  including  that  chump, 
Ferguson.  I  am  tired  of  your  vain  and  pomp 
ous  ways,  of  your  swelling  port,  your  affected 
silence,  of  your  walking  stick  and  your  mon 
ocle.  They  are  all  out  of  place  up  here  in 
these  free  woods.  They  don't  belong  here. 
Gus,  there  is  a  man  under  your  clothes  some 
where,  but  I  haven't  seen  him  since  you  came 
here.  You've  disgusted  Sis,  and  everybody 
else,  The  best  thing  you  can  do  is  to  pack  up 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        363 

and  get  out  of  here,  unless  you  can  find  that 
Gus  Ferguson  whom  I  used  to  know  in  our 
college  days.  You  have  made  a  deuced  mess 
of  it.  I  don't  want  to  be  hard  on  you,  old  fel 
low,  but  of  the  two  things,  do  one  or  the  other. 
Take  away  the  ass  we  have  had  around  here 
the  last  week,  or  bring  out  the  dear  old  Fergy 
I  used  to  know." 

There  was  something  so  tender  and  kindly 
in  the  last  words  of  Russell,  that  the  resent 
ment  caused  by  the  hot  words  of  his  friend 
began  to  melt,  and  at  the  words  "  the  dear  old 
Fergy  I  used  to  know,"  uttered  with  all  the 
force  of  camaraderie,  Ferguson  suddenly  put 
out  both  his  hands,  saying: 

"  Forgive  me,  dear  old  Russ.  I  deserve  all 
you  have  said,  but  I  was  insane  with  jealousy. 
I  didn't  know  what  I  was  about.  I  want  to 
stay  long  enough  to  prove  that  I  can  be  a  gen 
tleman;  then  I'll  go." 

At  this  moment  Gould,  who  had  heard  all, 
entered  and  to  the  astonishment  of  both  men 
said: 

"Mr.  Van  Allen,  you  go  to  the  yacht  and 


364       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

start  across  the  lake  with  your  party.  They 
are  waiting  for  you.  Mr.  Ferguson  and  I  will 
follow  in  my  canoe.  I  have  understood  that 
he  wanted  to  be  instructed  in  paddling  and 
managing  one.  This  will  be  a  good  opportu 
nity  to  learn,  and  I  will  account  for  his  absence. 
Will  it  not  suit  you  to  do  this,  Mr.  Ferguson? " 

"  It  will  not  only  suit  me,  Mr.  Gould,  but 
it  will  get  me  out  of  a  very  awkward  predica 
ment.  I  see  my  folly,  and  I  understand  how 
delicate,  how  thoughtful,  how  generous,  you 
are.  Your  simplicity  is  too  profound  for  my 
understanding." 

"  It's  all  right,  Fergy,"  said  "  our  Russ." 
'  You  are  taking  your  second  degree  now,  same 
as  Sis  did.  You  were  a  little  premature  on  the 
third;  but  never  mind,  old  boy.  Now,  brace 
up,  and  I'll  have  everything  fixed  up  when  you 
get  there.  I'll  tell  Sis  that  Fergy  is  himself 
again." 

They  shook  hands,  both  with  tears  in  their 
eyes,  and  "  our  Russ  "  went  forth  a  happy  boy, 
leaving  the  two  men  alone. 

As  soon  as  "our  Russ"  had  left  the  bunga- 


JAY   GOULD    HARMON        365 

low,  Ferguson  said:  "Mr.  Gould,  I  don't 
understand  you.  Have  you  no  feelings  of 
resentment?" 

"Not  any,  Mr.  Ferguson." 

'  You  will  pardon  me  if  I  ask  what  is  your 
philosophy?" 

"  I  assure  you  it  is  quite  simple.  I  could  not 
help  overhearing  your  friend's  concluding  re 
marks,  and  they  confirmed  what  I  had  already 
suspected,  namely,  that  as  a  man  you  are  an 
excellent  instrument,  but  somewhat  out  of 
tune.  My  violin,  out  of  tune,  distresses  me." 

"  I  see !  I  see ! "  broke  in  Ferguson.  "  And 
when  it  is  out  of  tune,  you  tune  it  as  you — as 
you  tuned  me." 

"  Do  not  embarrass  yourself  with  such  a  per 
sonal  application.  Let  us  go.  You  will  be 
a  good  canoeist  before  the  sun  sets.  You  take 
the  stern  and  I  will  take  the  bow.  You  will 
learn  instinctively  how  to  guide  the  canoe.  I 
will  instruct  a  little  as  we  move  along." 

"Allow  me  another  word.  Have  you  any 
idea,  sir,  how  profound  a  lesson  you  have 
taught  in  the  simile  drawn  from  the  violin, 


366       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

namely,  that  where  there  is  harmony  there  is 
happiness — music? " 

"  You  have  expressed  the  idea  perfectly.  I 
thank  you." 

"  One  more  question,  and  I  will  relieve  your 
patience:  Were  you  ever  in  love?  Were  you 
ever  jealous?" 

Gould  looked  out  over  the  water  a  moment 
before  answering,  then  replied: 

"  I  am  in  love,  and  I  fear  I  am  jealous." 

"That's  just  what  I  thought,"  said  Fer 
guson  eagerly.  "  I  don't  blame  you  for  loving 
Lucia.  You  couldn't  help  it;  nobody  can. 
And  of  course — you — you — I  appeared  to  be 
in  the  way." 

"Not  at  all.  The  woman  I  love  is  in 
France,  and  I  fear  my  love  is  hopeless,  for  my 
rival,  I  understand,  is  a  French  count,  wealthy 
and  of  excellent  character.  It  is  scarcely  prob 
able  that  so  humble  a  man  as  myself  can  hope 
to  bear  off  the  prize.  I  tell  you  these  things 
that  you  may  fully  understand  why  I  sympa 
thize  with  you  and  bear  no  resentment.  Please 
consider  this  confidential." 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        367 

"  Mr.  Gould,  my  hope  is  that  I  may  live 
to  win  your  respect.  I  shall  prize  it  next  to 
Lucia's  love." 

The  two  men  arrived  at  the  picnic  grounds 
in  time  for  the  dinner  under  the  great  trees 
near  the  shore.  It  was  a  veritable  New  Eng 
land  dinner,  consisting  of  brown  bread,  beans 
from  the  "bean  hole,"  roast  chicken,  dough 
nuts,  baked  apples,  pumpkin  pie,  coffee,  etc. 
Lucia  insisted  upon  sitting  between  Gould 
and  her  lover.  The  latter  surprised  and  de 
lighted  them  all  with  his  cheerful  spirits  and 
geniality.  After  dinner  Gould  took  his  de 
parture,  and  paddled  to  another  part  of  the 
lake  where  he  had  men  at  work,  leaving  the 
party  to  return  at  their  pleasure. 

There  was  a  dance  at  Cedar  Hall  that  night, 
Henri  and  Lettie  Goddard  furnishing  the 
music.  About  ten  o'clock  Albert  Crosby  came 
over  to  the  bungalow  with  a  letter  from  his 
father,  which  he  said  his  father  desired  that 
Gould  should  read.  Albert  seemed  consider 
ably  cast  down.  "  After  you  hear  this  I  want 
you  to  write  to  father  and  give  him  your 


368        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

ion.     My  opinion  could  be  expressed  in  one 
word,  'No.'" 

Among  other  things  the  letter  said:  "  I  have 
received  a  formal  proposal  from  Count  de 
Mowbray  for  the  hand  of  Lois.  I  understand 
that  it  is  the  custom  among  the  upper  classes 
in  this  country  for  the  would-be  husband  to 
declare  his  wish  and  purpose  to  the  parents  of 
the  favored  one  before  proposing  to  her,  al 
though  his  attentions  may  be  so  marked  that 
there  can  be  no  doubt  of  his  purpose.  I  am 
wrell  informed  as  to  the  character  and  standing 
of  the  count.  It  is  par  excellence.  Our 
grounds  of  opposition  to  such  a  marriage  are 
that  it  seems  unnatural,  almost  cruel,  for  it 
takes  from  us  our  daughter,  practically  for 
ever,  and  this  thought  fills  us  with  sorrow. 
But  we  will  not  consider  ourselves  if  we  are 
assured  that  our  Lois  loves  the  count  and  he  is 
necessary  to  her  happiness.  She  has  scarcely 
mentioned  him  in  her  letters,  and  we  are  at  a 
loss  to  know  what  her  real  feelings  are.  If  she 
does  not  love  him,  his  title  and  wealth  would 
count  for  nothing  with  us.  How  shall  I 


JAY   GOULD    HARMON       369 

answer  him,  Albert,  under  these  circumstances  ? 
Read  this  to  Gould.  He  knows  something 
of  society's  customs,  I  am  sure.  Ask  him  to 
advise  me." 

When  Albert  had  finished  reading  the  letter, 
he  said  to  Gould  with  some  vehemence: 

"  I  know  what  I  shall  write  father.  It  will 
be  this:  '  Write  to  Lois,  "If  you  love  the  count 
and  can't  be  happy  without  him,  marry  him. 
If  you  do  not,  come  home  at  once,  where  we 
will  make  up  with  our  love  for  the  loss  of  title 
and  wealth." ' " 

"  That's  clear  and  incisive,  Albert.  I  will 
write  to  your  father  this  night.  Was  the  pic 
nic  a  success?" 

"A  great  success.  But  what  did  you  do 
to  that  man  Ferguson?  He  seems  entirely 
made  over.  Why,  he  is  a  jolly  good  fellow. 
But  I  must  go  back  to  Cedar  Hall.  They  will 
probably  keep  up  the  dancing  until  twelve 
o'clock.  Good-night." 

Gould  went  to  his  desk  and  bowed  his  face 
in  his  hands.  What  should  he  write  to  Major 
Crosby?  His  love  for  Lois  had  grown  and 


370       JAY   GOULD    HARMON 

strengthened  every  day  since  her  departure 
until  it  had  become  a  part  of  his  life.  He  saw 
her  in  everything,  and  in  his  mind  he  could  feel 
her  soft  lips  upon  his  brow  and  the  gentle  touch 
of  her  hand  upon  his.  The  liquid  sweetness  of 
her  eyes  was  ever  before  him.  Must  he  give 
her  up?  Was  there  no  hope?  Yes,  a  faint 
hope.  She  had  confessed  to  no  love  for  her 
titled  lover,  and  he  felt  sure  that  her  hand 
would  not  go  unaccompanied  by  her  heart. 
This  hope  remained  with  him  when  he  wrote 
the  following  lines  to  Major  Crosby: 

"My  DEAR  MAJOR: 

"  Albert  has  read  your  letter  to  me,  in  which  you  re 
quest  my  advice  as  to  what  would  be  a  proper  reply  to 
Count  de  Mowbray  to  his  proposal  for  the  hand  of  your 
daughter,  Lois,  in  marriage.  I  cannot  advise  you  in  this 
matter,  and  my  excuse  must  be  this  confession.  I  love 
your  Lois,  and  therefore  am  incapable  of  giving  wise 
counsel.  I  know  you  will  understand.  Yours  in  confi 
dence,  JAY  GOULD." 


CHAPTER  XXI 

D~JRING  the  following  week  the 
guests  at  Cedar  Hall  had  a  continual 
round  of  pleasure.  They  visited  the 
great  pulp  and  paper  mills,  Albert  acting 
as  guide.  There  were  more  picnics  and 
much  canoeing.  Ferguson  had  gained  many 
friends,  and  re-established  himself  in  the  good 
graces  of  Lucia. 

Gould  had  been  away  on  important  busi 
ness  for  the  company,  but  he  had  arranged 
everything  for  the  comfort  and  entertainment 
of  Dolly's  guests. 

President  Hooven,  with  several  of  the  di 
rectors,  was  expected  the  last  of  the  week,  and 
Gould  was  to  meet  them  in  council. 

Dolly,  with  her  friend  Sarah,  came  down  to 
the  bungalow  as  soon  as  she  heard  of  the  arrival 
of  Gould,  and  informed  him  that  she  was 
going  to  test  his  friendship  by  asking  that  he 

371 


372       JAY   GOULD    HARMON 

take  her  father  and  Russ  into  his  bungalow 
for  a  few  days,  as  they  were  to  have  two  new 
guests,  and  "one  of  these  guests,"  she  said, 
with  a  roguish  look  in  her  eye,  "  I  have  selected 
for  your  wife.  She  is  everything  that  a  man 
could  ask  for:  young,  beautiful,  rich,  and  a 
widow.  Widows,  you  know,  are  said  to  be 
much  more  attractive  to  young  men  than  are 
girls.  I  shall  not  warn  you  against  her  charms, 
but  shall  do  everything  I  can  to  become  a 
match-maker.  You  are  sure  to  win,  especially 
if  you  play  your  violin  as  you  did  that  never- 
to-be-forgotten  night  that  Lucia  took  her  '  sec 
ond  degree/  as  Russ  says.  But  you  must  shave 
off  that  ugly  beard!  Another  thing:  there  is 
to  be  a  great  ball  game  next  Monday  between 
the  U.  of  M.  and  the  Millinockets.  You  are 
to  be  umpire.  Russ  and  Mr.  Ferguson  are 
to  play  with  the  Millinockets,  and  Albert 
Crosby,"  she  said,  blushing,  "  is  to  play,  if  you 
can  spare  him.  He  told  me  that  he  did  not 
think  he  should  ask  you  to  let  him  off,  as  he  has 
been  away  so  much  since  I — I  mean  since  my 
company  came.  But  I  am  going  to  ask  you 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        373 

to  let  him  go  just  this  time,  and  we'll  never  ask 
again,  will  we,  Sarah?" 

"  Not  until  the  next  time,"  said  Sarah. 

"I  am  afraid  I  can't  resist  you  two  girls. 
Mr.  Crosby  is  too  good  a  ball  player  to  take 
out  of  our  club,  and  if  I  am  going  to  be 
umpire  I  want  him  to  play.  Ball  playing  is 
the  only  recreation  I  indulge  in.  I  must  ask 
you  to  excuse  me  now,  for  I  am  going  across 
the  lake  in  my  canoe  to  look  after  matters 
there.  Oh,  I  nearly  forgot.  Send  all  the 
men  here  you  wish.  I  can  make  room  for 
them.  Glad  to  have  them.  Now  run  away." 

Gould  was  about  to  enter  his  canoe  when 
he  was  saluted  by  a  voice  saying: 

"  How  are  you,  old  man?  It's  just  good 
for  the  eyes  to  see  you." 

He  turned  to  greet  the  irrepressible  Link 
Lincoln.  Gould  could  not  help  liking  this 
frank,  open-hearted  and  genial  drummer.  All 
his  faults  and  weaknesses  he  "wore  on  his 
sleeve."  He  had  no  vulgar  vices,  and  in  his 
way  was  companionable  and  agreeable.  Gould 
shook  hands  with  him  cordially,  saying: 


374       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

"  I  am  going  across  the  lake  to  the  new  camp. 
Do  you  want  to  go  with  me? " 

"  Well,  you  are  just  shouting.  Got  another 
paddle?" 

"  Yes,  in  the  canoe." 

"I  feel  like  paddling.  I  can  make  her 
jump  right  out  of  the  water.  I  need  some 
thing  to  warm  me  up.  I  had  a  chill  just  now." 

"A  chill?"  said  Gould,  looking  puzzled. 
"How  can  that  be?  It  is  seventy-five  in  the 
shade." 

"  It  may  be  here,  but  it's  forty  below  up  at 
that  new  bungalow  marked  Cedar  Hall." 

'You  interest  me.     Explain." 

"Well,  you  see,  I  was  swinging  along,  and 
chancing  to  look  up  I  saw  sitting  on  the  porch 
two  of  the  prettiest  girls  I  ever  saw.  They 
were  chatting  and  laughing,  and  having  the 
biggest  sort  of  a  time.  You  know  perhaps 
that  I  am  all  out  of  girls,  and  it  occurred  to 
me  that  I  might  make  a  '  ten  strike '  right 
here.  So  I  walked  up  to  the  steps,  thinking  I 
would  introduce  myself  by  inquiring  if  you 
were  at  the  office.  When  I  reached  the  porch 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        375 

those  two  little  girl  sparrows  hushed  up,  looked 
at  me  with  their  gazelle  eyes  for  a  moment, 
then  ran  into  the  house.  I  had  gone  too  far 
to  back  out,  so  I  stepped  onto  the  porch.  Just 
then  there  rose  up  another  girl  I  had  not  seen. 
Well,  now,  talk  about  the  Queen  of  Sheba, 
Diana,  Greek  goddesses  and  marble  Venuses, 
they  ain't  in  it  a  minute  with  that  woman.  I 
calculate  I've  got  a  pretty  good  nerve  but  she 
just  made  me  feel  as  though  someone  was 
pulling  a  barbed  wire  through  my  vertebra. 
I  was  as  limp  as  a  drowned  angle  worm.  She 
never  spoke,  but  looked  at  me  as  though  some 
ill  wind  had  blowed  me  in  and  she  couldn't 
account  for  the  species.  I  murmured  some 
thing  about  making  a  mistake  and  hurried 
away.  As  I  did  so  I  heard  the  two  pretty  lit 
tle  sparrows  giggling  derisively.  It  was  a 
terrible  experience  for  me.  I  am  wondering 
who  that  tall  iceberg  can  be.  Next  to  Lois 
Crosby  she  is  the  handsomest  woman  I  ever 
saw.  But  my,  my,  what  a  difference !  After 
I  have  left  town,  if  you  should  meet  her  and 
she  has  thawed  out,  you  might  present  my  com- 


376       JAY   GOULD    HARMON 

pliments — if  you  dare  to — and  say  to  her  that 
I  think  that  as  a  fine  figurehead  upon  the 
north  pole  she  would  be  a  success.  Now,  let 
her  go!" 

They  glided  out  upon  the  bright  waters  of 
the  lake,  Gould  laughing  heartily  at  the  con 
ceits  of  his  merry  friend. 

"When  were  you  at  Falling  Water?"  in 
quired  Gould. 

"Yesterday." 

"Are  they  all  well?" 

"  Yes,  well  and  mighty  happy,  for  you  know 
the  Major's  wife  has  got  home." 

"I  knew  she  was  expected." 

'Yes,  she's  come,  and  is  togged  out 
gorgeous.  She  brought  Madeline  a  lot  of  new 
dresses  right  from  Paris.  Things  are  looking 
up  over  at  Sunny  Point.  The  whole  town  is 
excited,  and  as  proud  as  a  peacock  with  an 
extra  dazzler  on  its  tail  feathers.  Of  course 
you  have  heard  of  the  news  about  Lois's  en 
gagement  to  'Count  de  Bombay,'  as  Abby 
Smart  says.  They  say  it's  a  dead  sure  thing, 
and  that  they  are  building  the  '  Scateau  de 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        377 

Neumoirs,'  as  our  Abby  has  it,  for  the  bride  and 
bridegroom.  Some  like  the  idea  and  some 
don't.  I  think  Mrs.  Crosby  rather  favors  it, 
but  the  Major's  in  the  dumps.  Lige  is  tickled 
to  death,  but  the  Squire  shakes  his  head  gloom 
ily  when  the  boys  talk  about  it  in  the  store.  The 
papers  are  all  talking  about  Falling  Water, 
and  it  is  becoming  famous.  I  sometimes  won 
der,  Gould,  why  you  didn't  freeze  on  to 
Lois.  It  may  have  been  a  fool  idea  of  mine, 
but  I  thought  she  rather  liked  you.  I  saw 
something  in  her  eyes  when  she  was  looking 
your  way  that  would  have  made  me  dizzy  if 
any  girl  looked  at  me  the  same  way.  You 
must  be  one  of  those  fellows  with  a  marble 
heart.  Only  wish  I  had  one.  It  would  save 
me  a  heap  of  trouble.  By  the  way,  Gould, 
Bige  and  Abby  are  going  to  be  married." 

"No!     When?" 

"  As  soon  as  the  count  and  countess  arrive 
from  Paris.  Abby  thinks  it  would  be  more 
becoming  on  their  part  to  wait  till  after  their 
wedding." 

"How  did  it  happen?     They  tell  me  they 


378        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

have  been  keeping  company  forty  years,  and 
everyone  despaired  of  their  ever  being 
married." 

"  It  is  the  funniest  thing  you  ever  heard  of," 
replied  Lincoln,  laughing  gleefully.  '  You 
see,  Bige's  dog,  Gulliver,  who  was  nearly 
twenty  years  old,  and  Abby's  cat,  Roxanna, 
who  was  about  the  same  age,  never  could  get 
along  together,  but  fought  every  time  they 
met.  Bige  wouldn't  give  up  Gulliver,  nor 
Abby  Roxanna,  and  this  kept  them  apart. 
About  a  month  ago  the  dog  and  cat  had  a  ter 
rible  row.  Roxanna  crawled  home  with  a 
broken  back,  and  Gulliver  with  one  eye  hang 
ing  out.  Usually  such  a  thing  would  make 
their  owners  enemies ;  but  Abby  and  Bige  wept 
over  the  one  common  grave  of  their  aged  pets. 
They  even  put  up  a  wooden  headstone,  and 
called  on  me  to  help  them  with  an  epitaph. 
Here  is  the  way  it  goes : 

'  Here  lie  Gulliver  and  Roxanna. 
Through  all  their  life  they  lived  in  strife, 
But  now  they  sleep  in  peace  that's  dense. 
Death  brought  with  it  sound  common   sense 
To  Gulliver  and  Roxanna.' 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        379 

"  How  do  you  like  it,  Gould?  " 

"  It  is  very  suggestive  and  teaches  a  lesson. 
What  part  of  the  epitaph  did  Abby  and  Bige 
compose?" 

'  They  furnished  Gulliver  and  Roxanna.  I 
am  to  blame  for  the  rest.  Don't  you  like  it? " 

"  Oh,  yes ;  it  will  do  very  wrell  for  a  dog  and  a 
cat.  But  here  we  are.  I  am  very  much 
obliged  for  your  company.  You  are  my 
Winged  Mercury.  Will  you  have  your  samples 
open  to-night?  I  shall  need  some  hardware 
very  soon." 

"  I  shall  be  mighty  glad  to  sell  you.  Some 
how  you  are  the  one  man  I  can't  drum.  I 
wait  till  you  say  you  want  things." 

"And  that  is  one  reason  why  I  buy  of  my 
friend  Lincoln.  He  doesn't  drum  me.  There 
is  a  fishing  outfit  in  the  canoe,  and  you  can 
amuse  yourself  while  I  am  away." 

That  night  the  genial  Lincoln  left  town, 
made  happy  by  an  order  from  Gould  which 
he  said  was  a  "  Lu-lu." 

An  hour  was  spent  that  night  by  the  Millin- 
ocket  nine  in  preparing  for  the  great  event  of 


the  coming  week.  Twice  in  the  past  had  the 
U.  of  M.  borne  off  the  prize  from  the  Millin- 
ockets ;  but  with  the  added  strength  of  Fergu 
son  and  "our  Russ,"  they  were  full  of  hope, 
for  it  was  plain  to  see  that  the  two  men  were 
"  past  masters  "  of  the  great  national  game  of 
baseball. 

Saturday  was  pay  day.  President  Hooven 
had  brought  currency  to  pay  the  men.  A 
greater  part  of  this  was  placed  in  the  bank  for 
safe-keeping.  It  was  Gould's  intention  to 
rise  early  Saturday  morning  and,  in  company 
with  the  president,  cross  to  the  camps,  and  pay 
the  men  employed  there,  in  order  to  save  them 
the  trouble  of  going  to  the  town  office.  A 
thousand  dollars  was  kept  out  for  this  pur 
pose  and  the  president  brought  it  with  him  to 
the  bungalow. 

Gould  had  had  a  letter  from  Squire  Gray 
the  day  before,  and  the  Squire  stated  that  he 
was  quite  sure  he  had  seen  Pinto  in  Falling 
Water  that  day.  "He  is  the  man,  you  will 
remember,  who  tried  to  rob  and  murder  Mr. 
Newcomb,  the  peddler."  Newcomb  had 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        381 

recognized  him  and  pointed  him  out  to  the 
Squire.  "  There  were  two  other  men  with  him, 
both  wearing  beards,  but  Pinto  was  smooth 
shaven.  While  he  is  much  older,  yet  there  is 
the  same  cold,  vindictive  look  about  him.  His 
hair  is  almost  white,  his  eyes  are  black  and  rest 
less  and  quite  small ;  his  lips  are  thin  and  tremu 
lous.  I  write  these  particulars  because  on 
Thursday  the  three  men  started  up  the  river, 
and  it  is  thought  they  are  making  for  Millin- 
ocket.  You  had  better  'keep  your  eye  out' 
and  notify  the  authorities.  I  have  no  doubt 
they  are  planning  some  robbery  or  murder. 
They  look  capable  of  it." 

It  had  been  Gould's  intention  to  notify  the 
mayor  and  police  to  be  on  the  lookout,  but  he 
had  been  so  engaged  with  his  own  affairs  that 
he  had  forgotten  to  do  so.  He  had  worked 
hard  on  Friday,  and  had  practiced  very  late 
with  the  ball  team.  He  was  exceedingly  tired. 
He  had  given  up  his  own  room  to  Mr.  Hooven. 
Henri  was  asleep  in  the  kitchen,  and  Russ 
occupied  the  spare  room  which  led  off  from 
the  main  room,  near  the  back  door  opening  on 


the  rear  porch.  Just  before  Hooven  retired 
he  handed  Gould  the  large  pocketbook  con 
taining  the  money,  saying,  "You  had  better 
take  care  of  this,  for  there  are  some  people  who 
if  they  knew  that  we  had  so  much  money  here 
might  call  around  in  the  night  after  it.  I  have 
heard  of  such  things.  Have  you  any  pistols? " 

"  Two.  We  never  think  of  such  a  thing  as 
robbers  here,  but  are  always  prepared  for  call 
ers  of  that  sort.  Roosevelt's  idea,  you  see." 

Gould  took  the  pocketbook,  went  to  the 
large  wood-box,  lifted  the  cover,  took  out 
the  wood,  put  the  pocketbook  on  the  bottom, 
placed  the  wood  over  it,  shut  down  the  cover, 
and  laid  the  poker  and  tongs  upon  it. 

'  They  can't  get  it  without  making  a  noise 
that  will  wake  us  all  up.  They  will  have  to 
reckon  with  us  before  they  can  get  away  with 
it.  But  I  have  no  idea  that  such  a  precaution 
is  necessary."  Then  it  suddenly  occurred  to  him 
what  Squire  Gray  had  written  in  his  letter 
about  the  three  men ;  but  he  said  nothing  to  the 
president.  As  he  left  the  room  for  his  own 
he  said: 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        383 

"I  advise  that  you  leave  your  room  doors 
open.  The  rooms  are  rather  small,  and  you 
will  need  air." 

As  he  was  preparing  for  bed,  he  realized 
that  he  was  rather  nervous.  It  was  not  a  fear, 
but  a  premonitory  sensation,  which  he  tried  to 
shake  off. 

"What  a  fool  I  am  to  feel  this  way!  I'll 
not  think  about  that  letter.  I  am  becoming  a 
boy.  I  did  not  know  that  I  had  such  things 
as  nerves." 

Nevertheless,  when  he  had  lain  down  he 
placed  the  loaded  revolvers  within  easy  reach, 
and  noted  well  where  the  baseball  bat  stood  in 
the  corner.  He  even  went  so  far  as  to  go  out 
to  the  fireplace  in  the  main  room  and  lay  papers 
and  matches  near  the  wood,  which  Henri 
always  had  ready  for  lighting.  He  noted  also 
that  both  bedroom  doors  stood  open,  and  that 
the  lights  were  extinguished.  Then  he  went 
back  to  his  room  and  tried  to  sleep.  He  was 
very  tired,  but  he  could  not  throw  off  the  sense 
of  impending  danger.  Once  he  thought  he 
could  hear  footsteps  outside  the  bungalow.  He 


384        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

slipped  on  his  bed  shoes  and  went  to  the 
window  and  looked  out.  Nothing  could  be 
seen.  He  scolded  himself  again,  and  lay 
down,  determined  to  sleep.  After  a  while  he 
dozed  off  into  a  restless  slumber. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

HOW  long  he  slept  he  never  knew,  but 
he    awoke    alarmed.     Every    senti 
ment  of  sleep  had  left  him.     He 
listened.     Yes,  he  could  hear  stifled  groans 
and    low,    murmuring    voices.     What    could 
it  mean!     He  quickly  donned  a  few  clothes, 
slipped  his   feet  into  the  bed  shoes,   placed 
one    revolver    in    his    hip    pocket,    reached 
for  the  bat,  and,  stooping  very  low,  moved 
silently  to  the  door.     There  was  a  faint  light 
shining  under  the  door  of  the  president's  room 
—the  door  was  closed. 

In  an  instant  all  fear  fled.  Gould's  blood 
was  up.  "  I  will  quietly  waken  Russ,"  he 
thought.  He  moved  silently  to  the  left,  passed 
the  fireplace,  and  found  Russ's  door  closed. 
The  groans  continued  to  issue  from  the  presi 
dent's  room.  He  must  work  quickly!  If  the 
three  men  were  in  the  room  he  would  need 

385 


386       JAY   GOULD    HARMON 

Russ's  help  to  capture  them.  The  door  of 
Russ's  room  yielded  to  his  pressure.  He 
moved  to  the  bed,  and  at  once  detected  the  smell 
of  chloroform.  He  knew  what  had  happened. 
Russ  lay  bound  hand  and  foot.  He  had  recov 
ered  from  the  slight  effects  of  the  chloroform, 
but  did  not  speak,  for  he  thought  one  of  the 
robbers  had  come  back  to  see  if  he  was  still  un 
conscious,  which  he  was  affecting  to  be. 

Gould  whispered:  "If  you  are  conscious, 
don't  speak.  It  is  Gould" 

"  Thank  God,"  whispered  Russ. 

With  his  clasp  knife  Gould  noiselessly  cut 
the  cords  that  bound  Russ,  then  sliding  his  arm 
under  his  friend's  body,  lifted  him  from  the 
bed,  and  stood  him  on  his  feet  without  the 
slightest  noise. 

"  Get  your  breath,"  he  whispered.  "  Here's 
a  revolver.  Are  you  all  right? " 

"Wait  a  moment,"  replied  Russ.  "I  am 
coming  round.  I  fooled  them  about  the 
chloroform.  I  blew  off  the  handkerchief  as 
soon  as  they  left." 

"Listen!"     said     Gould.     "This     is     my 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        387 

plan.  We  will  creep  to  the  door  of  Mr. 
Hooven's  room.  I  think  they  are  trying  to 
force  from  him  a  confession  of  where  the 
money  is.  We  will  open  the  door  quickly; 
cover  them  with  our  revolvers.  If  they  rush 
on  us,  shoot.  If  they  surrender,  spare  them. 
You  take  this  club  in  your  left  hand.  I  will 
open  the  door  and  be  ready.  How  is  your 
courage?" 

"  If  I  don't  get  killed,  I'll  have  some  fun," 
said  the  nervy  Russ. 

Gould  was  satisfied  that  he  had  a  man  of 
courage  to  sustain  him.  As  they  approached 
the  door,  the  voices  grew  urgent.  They  could 
distinctly  hear: 

"Tell  us  where  the  money  is,  or  we  will  bur-n 
your  foot" 

Suddenly  the  door  was  flung  open,  and  the 
astonished  robbers,  too  surprised  for  a  moment 
to  think  or  act,  found  themselves  looking  into 
the  barrels  of  the  revolvers  held  in  the  hands  of 
the  determined  men. 

On  the  bed  lay  Hooven,  bound  and  gagged. 
His  feet  were  exposed,  and  one  of  the  robbers 


388        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

was  holding  a  lighted  candle  to  them.  On  the 
little  stand  burned  another  candle.  At  the 
head  of  the  bed,  with  his  white  face  and  glint 
ing  eyes  stood  Pinto.  A  large,  dark  man  was 
holding  the  feet  of  the  sufferer.  This  was  the 
situation  when  the  door  opened.  But  in  an 
instant  all  changed. 

"Blow  out  the  lights!"  cried  Pinto. 
"Fight!" 

Quick  as  thought  Gould  saw  the  peril  that 
lay  in  darkness.  As  Pinto  whirled  to  extin 
guish  the  candle,  he  fired  point  blank  at  Gould. 
But  before  he  could  reach  the  candle,  a  ball 
from  Gould's  revolver  crashed  through  his 
jaw,  and  he  fell,  with  a  groan,  to  the  floor. 

The  ball  from  Pinto's  revolver  entered  the 
upper  part  of  our  hero's  shoulder,  passing  out 
and  into  the  log  wall.  It  was  only  a  flesh 
wound. 

Russell  had  not  been  idle.  The  man  holding 
the  candle  was  not  armed.  He  attempted  to 
rush  out  of  the  room,  but  the  big  bat  came 
down  on  his  head,  and  he  fell  in  the  doorway 
like  one  dead.  Russell  turned  to  find  Gould 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        389 

struggling  with  the  big  fellow.  A  knife  could 
be  seen  gleaming  in  his  hand.  Gould  had 
seized  his  wrist  and  held  it  as  in  a  vice.  His 
other  arm  was  around  the  man's  body  holding 
down  his  arm. 

Gould  shouted  to  Russ: 

"  I've  got  him !  Hold  the  candle  to  his  hand 
until  he  drops  the  knife!  Don't  allow  him  to 
blow  it  out." 

And  now  that  great  strength  which  Gould 
had  acquired  in  his  college  days  served  him 
well.  He  slowly  straightened  the  powerful 
arm  of  the  ruffian,  despite  his  resistance. 

"  Hold  the  candle  to  his  fingers ! " 

One  touch  of  the  flame  was  enough.  The 
knife  fell  to  the  floor. 

"  Pick  it  up,  and  cut  the  cords  that  bind  Mr. 
Hooven.  I  can  hold  this  fellow  all  night." 

In  another  moment  Hooven  was  released, 
but  could  not  move  or  speak. 

Just  then  Henri  burst  into  the  room  crying : 

"  Ze  helle  go  on  here,  bang,  bang  1 " 

"Quick,  Henri,  light  the  fire,"  cried 
Gould. 


390       JAY   GOULD    HARMON 

As  he  dragged  the  nearly  vanquished  rob 
ber  through  the  door  the  fire  blazed  up,  light 
ing  the  room.  Then  Gould,  remembering 
one  of  his  old  side-hug  tricks,  let  go  the  wrist, 
flung  his  arm  back  and  around  the  neck  of  the 
man,  and  throwing  his  hips  in  front  and  sum 
moning  all  his  strength,  he  flung  him  over  his 
head  to  the  floor  with  terrible  force.  Taking 
no  chances  he  sprang,  seized  him  by  the  throat 
and  called  on  Russ  to  bring  the  cords  that  had 
bound  Hooven.  As  they  were  securing  the 
man,  Russell  holding  the  light,  there  was  a 
sharp  report.  The  light  was  extinguished,  and 
Russell's  little  finger  hung  by  a  shred  of  flesh. 
Then  followed  the  sound  of  a  crushing  blow. 
They  looked  up  to  see  Henri  standing,  with  bat 
in  hand,  over  Pinto,  who,  with  the  bones  of  his 
jaw  protruding,  his  teeth  exposed,  the  face 
bloody  and  disfigured,  lay  dead  in  the  doorway. 
He  had  crawled  to  the  door,  and,  summoning 
what  strength  he  could,  had  endeavored  to 
wreak  his  vengeance  before  his  death,  which  he 
realized  was  close  upon  him.  He  was  dead, 
although  the  excited  and  frightened  Henri  did 


JAY   GOULD    HARMON        391 

not  know  it.  The  man  brought  down  by  Russ 
was  securely  bound,  and  the  battle  was  over. 

Using  the  telephone,  the  alarm  was  soon 
given  and  help  summoned.  It  was  an  hour  be 
fore  the  doctors  could  revive  Hooven. 

The  robbers  had  entered  Russ's  room  first, 
and  nearly  smothered  him  with  a  pillow  while 
they  bound  him.  Then  they  held  a  handker 
chief  over  his  mouth,  and  he,  realizing  his  help 
less  condition,  simulated  unconsciousness. 

The  robbers,  satisfied  that  he  was  chloro 
formed,  left  him  with  the  handkerchief  over  his 
face.  For  a  short  time  he  was  insensible,  but 
recovered  sufficiently  to  realize  what  had  hap 
pened  and  blew  off  the  handkerchief  about  the 
time  that  Gould  entered  the  room. 

The  villains  had  been  led  to  think  that  Gould 
occupied  the  room  that  Russ  was  in.  They 
probably  knew  that  Henri  slept  on  the  bunk  in 
the  kitchen.  They  had  entered  Russ's  room 
without  a  light  and  reckoned  on  there  being 
but  two  men  in  the  main  bungalow. 

In  some  way  they  had  learned  that  the  presi 
dent  had  brought  the  money  with  him  and 


392       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

therefore  he  was  the  one  they  proposed  to 
rob. 

They  had  chloroformed  him,  Pinto  holding 
the  saturated  cloth  over  his  face  while  the  other 
two  men  held  him.  After  he  had  become  in 
sensible  they  searched  for  the  money,  but  fail 
ing  to  find  it,  had  waited  for  him  to  recover 
consciousness  and  then  tried  to  force  him  by 
torture  to  reveal  where  it  was. 

The  groans  that  Gould  heard  had  pro 
ceeded  from  Hooven  as  he  was  coming  out 
from  the  effects  of  the  chloroform.  They 
were  preparing  to  torture  him,  after  urging 
him  in  vain  to  inform  them  where  the  money 
was. 

They  had  been  led  to  think  that  he  had  suffi 
ciently  recovered  to  understand  them,  and  were 
in  the  act  of  holding  the  candle  to  his  feet  when 
Gould  and  Russ  burst  into  the  room. 

The  next  morning  the  town  was  terribly  ex 
cited,  and  all  that  day  the  place  was  thronged 
with  people  curious  to  see  the  scene  of  the 
tragedy. 

Gould  got  away  early,  going  to  the  camps 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        393 

across  the  lake  with  the  money  to  pay  his  men. 
He  said  nothing  to  them  about  the  occurrence 
at  the  bungalow.  After  paying  them  off  he 
paddled  to  the  east  cove  "pulled  out"  his 
canoe  and  disappeared  in  the  woods.  He 
wanted  to  be  alone.  He  realized  that  he  had 
received  a  terrible  shock.  A  reaction  had  set 
in,  and  he  was  as  weak  as  a  child. 

He  did  not  appear  until  about  four  o'clock. 
He  was  very  pale  and  complained  of  being 
tired,  and  of  needing  sleep. 

He  found  the  bungalow  in  perfect  order, 
but  no  one  was  there  but  Henri,  in  whose  face, 
though  it  wore  its  old  smile,  there  was  a  look 
of  great  anxiety. 

He  looked  into  his  master's  face  with  all  the 
affection  in  his  gaze  that  one  sees  in  the  eyes 
of  a  loving  dog,  as  he  said  apologetically: 

"Henri  feel  mos'  awfu'  bad.  He  'fraid 
M'sieu  Gould  he  come  back  no  mo'  to  poor 
Henri.  Henri  heart  brok  off  ver  queek 
M'sieu  no  come.  Mon  Dieu!  Henri  he  slep 
vey  poor  las'  night.  Dat  robbare  with  jaw  all 
loos  mak  Henri  dream  mos'  awfu'  seek,  Poor 


394        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

diable,  I  crackee  his  bed.  But  ze  man  he  go 
shoot.  I  try  save  M'sieu  Gould.  Henri  do 
right?  Oui,  M'sieu?" 

"You  did  nobly,  Henri,  and  I  shall  never 
forget  it,"  replied  Gould  with  feeling. 

The  little  Frenchman  never  knew  that  it  was 
his  arm  that  sent  the  wicked  Pinto  to  his  last 
account. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

OUR  RUSS  "  was  the  hero  of  the  town, 
and  he  thoroughly  enjoyed  it,  but  not 
more  than  his  proud  sister,  who  pet 
ted  him,  called  him  her  brave  brother,  often 
putting  her  arms  around  his  neck  and  giving 
him  a  sisterly  kiss,  much  to  the  envy  of 
Ferguson,  who,  while  he  liked  Russ,  regretted 
that  he  had  not  had  the  opportunity  to  prove 
himself  a  hero  that  Russ  had. 

It  was  found  necessary  to  amputate  Russ's 
injured  finger.  He  declared  his  intention  to 
pitch  in  the  game,  providing  the  club  desired. 

Early  on  Monday  morning  a  tall  figure  was 
seen  approaching  the  bungalow.  As  he  passed 
Cedar  Hall  he  raised  his  hat  to  someone  on  the 
porch. 

Gould,  who  had  kept  his  room  on  Sunday, 
was  eating  his  breakfast  when  his  attention 
was  called  by  Henri  to  the  approaching 
stranger,  whose  distinguished  appearance  had 

395 


396        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

impressed  the  boy.  One  look  and  Gould 
saw  that  it  was  Lionel  Sharpe.  He  met  him 
at  the  door,  and  they  shook  hands  cordially, 
Sharpe  saying: 

"  I  chanced  to  be  in  Boston  yesterday,  and 
read  in  the  papers  an  account  of  a  little  fracas 
you  had  here  Friday  night.  You  seem  to  at 
tract  robbers  and  their  sort.  Did  it  happen 
right  here?" 

"  Right  here.  There  is  some  of  Pinto's  blood 
on  the  floor.  We  are  going  to  plane  it  off,  as 
we  cannot  wash  it  off." 

Sharpe  looked  at  the  dark  spot  curiously. 
After  a  while,  he  said : 

"What  brutes  we  all  are!  How  easily  the 
animal  is  summoned.  I  suppose  I  would  pass 
for  a  man  of  some  refinement  and  culture,  but 
when  I  read  about  the  bloody  fight  that  took 
place  here  I  was  possessed  with  a  fiendish  de 
sire  to  see  where  that  man  Pinto  was  killed. 
I  had  anticipated  with  pleasure  visiting  you  a 
little  later;  but  when  I  read  the  account  of  the 
bloody  tragedy  the  desire  became  irresistible. 
So  you  see,  Jay,  the  finest  gentleman  is  but  a 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        397 

veneered  brute  masquerading"  in  fine  clothes." 
Turning  to  his  friend,  he  continued,  "  You 
look  pale  and  careworn.  Were  you  hurt?" 

"  Oh,  no,  only  a  slight  flesh  wound.  But 
I  have  not  felt  well  for  some  time.  I  sup 
pose  it  is  the  old  story  of  anxiety  and  care.  I 
will  soon  recover  my  usual  health.  Have  you 
had  breakfast?" 

"  No,  I  came  through  on  the  night  train. 
As  soon  as  I  registered  at  the  hotel  I  ran  over 
here  to  see  if  you  were  safe.  You  see,  you  are 
such  a  chronic  victim  of  robbers,"  he  said 
smilingly.  "I  did  not  know  but  they  might 
renew  their  visitation.  By  the  way,  here  are 
some  Paris  papers  which  give  an  account  of  the 
social  triumphs  in  that  city,  of  the  American 
beauty,  Miss  Lois  Crosby,  also  of  the  antici 
pated  alliance  of  the  house  of  Mowbray  with 
that  of  Crosby.  I  rather  think  it  is  a  fore 
gone  conclusion,  and  that  when  we  next  see  the 
fair  Lois  she  will  be  Countess  de  Mowbray. 
I  feel  so  sure  of  this  that  I  am  urging  my  con 
tractor  to  rush  the  work  at  Sunny  Point  in 
order  to  have  it  ready  for  the  bridal  couple. 


398        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

By  the  way,  I  have  changed  its  name.  Just  by 
accident  I  learned  that  Major  Crosby  is  so 
strongly  American  that  he  does  not  like  the 
name  chateau.  He  has  not  made  his  objections 
known  to  me  as  he  has  probably  never  dreamed 
that  I  am  building  it  for  him  and  his  family  as 
a  small  recognition  of  what  he  did  for  my 
friend  Gould,  and  his  unselfish  work  in  the 
building  of  the  schoolhouses.  Mrs.  Crosby  will 
return  from  France  a  very  rich  woman.  The 
estates  and  revenues  she  inherited  have  proven 
to  be  very  productive.  She  will  be  able  to 
maintain  the  place  properly." 

"What  shall  you  call  it?" 

"The  Lodge  of  Katahdin." 

"  Let  me  congratulate  you,"  said  Gould 
with  feeling.  "  It  is  a  grand  and  appropriate 
name.  But  come,  let  us  have  breakfast.  Henri 
has  re-garnished  the  table,  which  is  on  the 
porch.  It  is  a  little  rude,  but  airy  and  pleas 
ant  out  there.  There  are  two  great  pine  trees 
on  each  side,  and  you  will  hear  them  sigh  and 
sough  as  we  eat." 

He   opened   the   door   and   soon   the   two 


JAY   GOULD    HARMON        399 

friends,  the  millionaire  and  the  manager,  were 
breakfasting  on  lake  trout  caught  that  morn 
ing,  baked  beans  hot  from  the  "bean  hole" 
(something  entirely  new  to  Sharpe),  brown 
bread,  coffee,  doughnuts,  cream  of  wheat,  with 
an  abundance  of  thick  cream.  The  table  was 
arranged  with  all  the  daintiness  of  Henri's 
faultless  French  taste.  He  had  taken  the  cue 
from  his  master,  and  had  done  so  well  that 
Sharpe  exclaimed,  as  he  stepped  to  the  porch: 

"  Jay,  this  is  rapturous !  You  don't  need 
sympathy.  You  are  to  be  envied.  Where  is 
the  artist  who  arranged  this  table?  My  boy, 
have  you  some  fair  'Maineiac,'  a  domestic 
genius,  about  here?  Ah,  see  that  water,  and 
those  woods,  and  the  great  hovering  pines  so 
near!  It  does  me  good.  Really,  what  excuse 
can  you  have  for  being  sick?  Why,  a  dys 
peptic  would  get  well  here !  What  is  the  mat 
ter  with  you?  You  seem  dull." 

Gould  laughed  as  he  replied,  "  I  am  en 
joying  hearing  you  talk.  In  New  York  you 
were  the  dumb  one.  A  five-word  sentence  was 
about  all  we  could  expect  from  you;  but  you 


are  really  delightful  here  and  chat  away  like  a 
chipmunk.  There  are  two  of  them  now.  They 
are  Henri's  pets.  He  calls  them  *  This  and 
That.'  Don't  be  surprised  if  they  run  all  over 
you.  They  are  mighty  sociable  little  fellows, 
and  as  tame  as  kittens." 

So  the  two  friends  chatted,  Sharpe  growing 
more  and  more  enthusiastic  as  the  meal  pro 
ceeded.  Everything  suited  him,  particularly 
Henri,  who  had  served  them  perfectly,  but  was 
awed  into  silence  by  the  distinguished-looking 
stranger.  At  the  close  of  the  meal  Sharpe 
said: 

"  Can't  I  stay  here  with  you  a  couple  of 
days?  I  will  sleep  on  the  floor  or  in  the 
kitchen;  anywhere  excepting  in  that  room 
where  the  president  was  assaulted." 

"  Why,  my  dear  fellow,  you  must  stay  here. 
If  you  went  to  the  hotel  it  would  break  me 
all  up." 

So  it  was  arranged  that  Sharpe  should  re 
main  in  the  bungalow. 

The  crowd  began  to  arrive  early.  The  U. 
of  M.  friends  swarmed  up  from  Bangor,  Old- 


JAY   GOULD    HARMON        401 

town,  Orono,  and  all  towns  on  the  B.  &  A. 
railroad.  They  came  by  hundreds.  There 
never  was  such  a  crowd  seen  in  the  "  City  of  the 
Woods."  Fifty  seats  had  been  reserved  in 
the  center  of  the  grand  stand  for  Dolly  and  her 
friends,  the  president,  directors,  and  the 
various  heads  of  the  corporation.  On  one  of 
the  seats  sat  President  Hooven;  at  his  side, 
Dolly's  guest,  was  Mrs.  Harmon,  and  on  her 
left  Lionel  Sharpe.  He  had  said  nothing 
to  Gould  of  Mrs.  Harmon's  presence  in  the 
town,  thinking  it  wise  not  to  do  so  until  after 
the  game,  for  he  knew  that,  as  umpire,  his 
friend  should  have  nothing  to  distract  him,  and 
if  he  knew  that  Marion  Harmon  was  watching 
him  it  could  not  fail  to  divert  his  mind. 

The  hour  had  come.  The  men  were  in  their 
places,  and  awaiting  the  command  of  the  um 
pire  to  "Play  ball!"  The  band  had  ceased 
playing.  A  hush  had  fallen  upon  the  throng. 
But  a  few  of  that  vast  crowd  had  seen  Gould, 
whose  name  had  been  upon  every  lip.  The 
papers  had  rung  with  praises  of  his  wonderful 
pluck  and  courage.  His  own  townspeople 


402       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

even  had  not  seen  him  since  that  awful  night 
at  the  bungalow,  and  they  awaited  with  un 
concealed  impatience  for  the  appearance  of 
their  hero.  When  he  came  forward  his  recep 
tion  was  one  that  surpasses  description.  The 
crowd  went  wild.  Cheer  after  cheer,  pro 
longed  and  loud,  rent  the  air.  "  Bravo !  Bravo ! 
Bravo!"  they  shouted. 

Gould  turned  toward  the  crowd  and 
bowed  his  acknowledgments.  Then  there  was 
a  commotion  on  the  grand  stand.  Mrs.  Mar 
shall  Harmon  had  fainted  in  the  arms  of 
Lionel  Sharpe.  She  was  soon  restored,  and, 
as  pale  as  death,  watched  the  progress  of  the 
game.  None  save  Lionel  Sharpe  suspected 
the  cause  of  her  sudden  collapse. 

President  Hooven  took  upon  himself  to  ex 
plain  to  the  pale  and  silent  woman  at  his  side 
who  the  umpire  was. 

"He's  the  man  who  saved  my  life  Friday 
night.  There  never  was  known  a  more  re 
markable  case  of  pluck  and  courage.  He  took 
terrible  chances  when  he,  with  only  little  Russ 
to  help  him,  attacked  those  three  desperate  vil- 


"President  Hooven  took  upon  himself  to  explain  to  the  pale  and 
silent  woman  at  his  side  who  the  umpire  was  " 


JAY   GOULD    HARMON        '403 

lains.  I  feel  that  I  owe  him  what  money  can 
not  pay.  To  show  my  appreciation  I  am  trying 
to  have  him  made  one  of  the  directors.  But 
there  is  one  thing  in  the  way — a  director  must 
own  fifty  thousand  dollars'  worth  of  stock.  I 
have  offered  to  advance  the  money  on  three 
years'  time  without  interest,  but  he  is  so  proud 
he  won't  accept  the  favor,  and  as  he  has  only 
a  few  thousand  dollars  of  his  own  I  am  hope 
lessly  blocked." 

"How  much  of  the  stock,"  inquired  Mrs. 
Harmon,  "did  you  say  one  must  have  to  be 
come  eligible  to  the  directorship?" 
"  Fifty  thousand  dollars." 
"  Tell  me  more  about  Mr.  Gould." 
"I  could  talk  all  day  with  him  for  a  sub 
ject,"  replied  Hooven.     "But  let  me  say  in 
brief  that  he  is  the  most  wonderful  all  'round 
man  that  the  corporation  ever  had  in  its  em 
ploy.      He    is    an    engineer,    a    surveyor,    a 
draughtsman,   a   constructor,   has    wonderful 
control  over  his  men;  and  can  look  ahead  and 
foresee  things.     In  fact,  he  is  the  whole  thing. 
The  meeting  of  the  directors  is  merely  per- 


404       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

functory.  He  lays  his  recommendations  be 
fore  us  and  we  vote  *  Yes/  But  we  must 
watch  the  game." 

At  another  interval  in  the  game  Mrs.  Har 
mon  asked  Hooven,  "Is  Mr.  Gould  married, 
or  to  be  married?  " 

"Neither,  I  take  it.  His  is  a  case  of  'the 
marble  heart.'  I  never  saw  a  man  so  Indiffer 
ent  to  women  as  he.  He  never  goes  into 
society,  and  lives  by  himself  at  the  bungalow. 
Dolly,  as  you  know,  regards  him  as  her  elder 
brother,  and  she  is  the  one  girl  who  can  get  him 
out  of  his  bungalow  and  up  to  Cedar  Hall, 
where  he,  at  times,  will  play  the  violin  to  Miss 
Goddard's  accompaniment.  But  my,  my, 
Mrs.  Harmon,  can't  he  play? " 

"  He  certainly  can,"  replied  the  fair  widow, 
with  feeling. 

"Have  you  heard  him?"  asked  Hooven  in 
a  surprised  tone. 

"  Oh I  have  heard  Dolly  and  Miss  God- 

dard  extol  his  playing  very  highly;  and  their 
endorsement  of  a  musician  would  satisfy  me 
as  to  his  proficiency." 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        405 

'Mrs.  Harmon's  face  flushed,  and  she 
appeared  embarrassed  as  she  replied  to 
Hooven. 

During  the  game  Mrs.  Harmon,  as  soon  as 
she  had  become  composed,  had,  in  a  tremulous 
voice,  asked  Sharper 

"Did  you  know  that  Jay  Harmon  was 
here?" 

"I  did,"  he  replied  coldly. 

"  You  did  not  tell  me." 

"  No,  but  I  had  good  reasons  for  not  doing 
so." 

"Does  he  know  that  I  am  here? " 

"He  has  not  the  slightest  suspicion." 

"Shall  I  meet  him?" 

"I  think  you  had  better.  A  musicale  has 
been  arranged  for  Wednesday  night  at  Cedar 
Hall,  and  he  and  Miss  Goddard  will  play. 
You  will  probably  meet  him  there." 

"  Mrs.  Harmon,"  said  Sharpe  seriously, 
"  you  have  said  to  me,  and  I  am  sure  you  were 
sincere,  that  you  desired  in  some  way  to  make 

repar .  Beg  pardon,  I  will  not  put  it  as 

hard  as  you  do.  I  f  you  desire  to  serve  the  in- 


406       JAY   GOULD    HARMON 

terests  of  Mr.  Harmon  you  can  do  so  by 
remembering  that  he  is  Mr.  Gould  at  all 
times  and  in  all  places.  Meet  him  as  you 
would  any  agreeable  stranger.  You  can  trust 
to  his  magnanimity  and  discretion." 

"  And  you  can  trust  me,"  replied  Mrs.  Har 
mon,  "to  do  all  you  ask — and  more,  I  hope." 

There  was  a  look  of  resolution  in  her  beauti 
ful  face  as  she  turned  to  watch,  not  the  game, 
but  the  pale  umpire,  who,  it  was  noted  by  all, 
was  far  from  feeling  well. 

THE   MILLINOCKET   NINE 

Russell     Van     Allen,     pitcher — "small     but 

lightning,"  and  who  surprised  the  U.  of  M. 

players. 
Augustus  Ferguson,  catcher — a  big  blond,  and 

"  great  at  the  bat." 
Albert  Crosby,  1st  base — tall  and  handsome,  a 

good  base-runner  and  an  adept  at  stealing 

bases. 
Nathan  F.  Woodman,  2nd  base — called  "  Nick 

of  the  Woods." 
John  Socabasin,  3rd  base — called  "Sock,"  a 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        407 

full-blood  Penobscot  Indian,  a  fleet  runner 

and  a  good  all  around  player. 
Henri  Former,  shortstop — alert,  sure,  and  full 

of  drollery. 
Luther  Flanders,  right  field — big,  awkward 

and  slow,  but  generally  under  flies  in  his 

territory. 
Jim  Gramme,  left  field — a  giant,  a  terrible 

"  slugger  "  at  the  bat,  and  a  good  fielder. 
Sim  Whitcomb,  center  field — a  young  minister 

who  had  not  forgotten  his  college  athletics. 

THE   UNIVERSITY   OF   MAINE   NINE 

Lorenzo    Dow,    pitcher — called    "  Lou,"    or 

"  Shoestring,"    tall    and    slender,   the    only 

light  man  on  the  team. 
Hannibal  Sampson,  catcher — called  "  Han," 

six  feet  one  inch  in  height,  weighs  200  Ibs. 
Sargeant  Whitcomb,  1st  base — five  feet  six 

inches  in  height,  weighs  195  Ibs. 
Gardner  Hunting,  2nd  base — called  "  Gard," 

or  "  Greyhound,"  a  noted  runner,  weighs  187 

Ibs. 
Thomas  U.  Bailey,  3rd  base— called  "  Tubby," 

fat  and  jolly,  and  a  good  player. 


408       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

William  Toothacher,  shortstop — called  "Bill 

the  Dentist." 

Byron  Porter,  left  field— called  "  By." 
Joseph  Porter,  center  field — called  "Joe." 
(The  Porters  known  as  "  The  Orono  Babies." 

Combined  weight  437  Ibs.) 
Samuel  Dudley,  right  field  and  captain — called 

"Orono's  Real  Beauty,"  red-headed  and  a 

terror  to  umpires. 

Millinocket  won  the  toss  and  took  the  field. 
Dow  faced  Russ,  who  began  a  gentle  flow  of 
chaff  which  ran  through  the  game  and  more 
than  once  disconcerted  the  man  at  the  bat. 
"  Just  turn  sideways  so  I  can  see  you,  Shoe 
string.  I  will  then  try  and  remember  that  you 
are  there."  Russ  tossed  in  a  few  slow  balls. 
Do\v  wss  expecting  some  hot  ones  and  some 
fancy  curves.  He  fanned  twice  at  the  slow 
balls,  and  then  waited  for  the  third.  It  came 
like  a  shot  from  a  30-30,  with  a  quick  drop  over 
the  plate,  and  Dow  banged  at  it  after  it  was  in 
Ferguson's  hands.  "  Yodel  a  bit  as  you  go  to 
to  the  bench,  Shoestring,  so  I  can  know  where 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        409 

you  are  at,"  taunted  Russ.  Henri  turned  a 
complicated  series  of  handsprings,  the  Millin- 
ocket  crowd  yelled,  and  the  players  shouted 
their  appreciation  to  Russ  and  Ferguson. 

Han  Sampson  balanced  his  bat,  ready  for 
the  first  ball  from  Russ.  "I  can  see  you, 
all  right,"  said  Russ,  as  he  gathered  some  sand 
and  kneaded  the  ball,  "  but  I  can't  see  anything 
beyond  you."  The  ball  came,  over  the  plate, 
and  the  umpire  called  a  strike.  The  next  one 
was  delivered  with  all  the  signs  of  tremendous 
vigor,  but  it  sailed  slowly  over  the  plate  after 
Han  had  given  the  air  a  tremendous  thwack. 
The  next  ball  came  in  the  instant  after  Russ 
received  it  from  the  catcher,  and  before  Han 
could  gather  his  wits.  "Strike!"  called  the 
umpire,  and  Han  went  back  to  the  tune  of  the 
Millinocket  cheers. 

Whitcomb  took  his  stick  and  started  for 
ward.  Captain  Dudley  walked  with  him,  and 
evidently  tried  to  impress  him  with  the  gravity 
of  his  task.  Russ  dallied  with  the  ball  and 
made  much  of  his  footholds.  He  pitched  wild 
until  three  balls  were  called  on  him,  and  then 


410       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

put  in  three  straight  and  swift  balls.  Whit- 
comb  let  the  first  go  by  and  got  a  strike  called 
on  him.  He  struck  at  the  others,  but  was 
nervous  and  did  not  judge  either  the  speed  or 
the  curve;  and  the  visitors  went  into  the  field 
without  seeing  first  base.  "What's  the  matter 
with  our  lluss!"  bellowed  Link  Lincoln,  who 
was  chief  "rooter"  for  the  Millinockets. 
"  He's  all  right!"  roared  the  crowd  of  farmers, 
woodsmen,  and  log-drivers. 

"What's  the  matter  with  our  Gus!"  he 
shouted  again,  and  again  the  crowd  answered 
in  a  Falling  Water  roar,  "He's  all  right!" 
The  tumult  was  quelled  by  the  umpire,  who 
raised  his  hand  for  silence  and  sent  Russ  to  bat. 

Dow  "  had  it  in "  for  Russ,  who  urbanely 
informed  him  that  he  was  "visible  against  the 
northern  sky,"  but  suggested  that  he  tie  his 
handkerchief  on  his  left  arm  "  so  that  I  can  feel 
sure  it  is  you  and  not  Rill  the  Dentist's 
shadow."  Dow  flushed,  opened  his  mouth  to 
reply,  but  finally  contented  himself  with  a  grin. 
Dow  had  a  good  delivery,  and  threw  a  ball  that 
was  exceedingly  difficult  to  hit,  but  he  had  no 


JAY   GOULD    HARMON        411 

versatility.  He  was  always  strong  during  the 
first  half  of  a  game.  Russ  did  not  make  a  hit, 
though  he  fouled  twice.  When  he  retired  the 
U.  of  M.  contingent  nearly  split  their  throats 
with  their  yells.  Jay  finally  sent  Ferguson  to 
bat,  and  the  tumult  subsided.  Ferguson  fouled 
twice,  and  then  found  the  sphere  for  a  safe  hit 
to  right  of  short,  landing  on  first  only  a  sec 
ond  ahead  of  the  ball,  which  whizzed  past  his 
ear  and  "spatted"  in  Whitcomb's  hands.  It 
was  a  pretty  play,  and  the  applause  was  de 
served  by  short,  first  base  and  striker.  Fergu 
son  was  keyed  up.  He  saw  a  possible  chance 
to  redeem  himself  and  wipe  out  the  record  of 
his  break  with  Jay.  Albert  Crosby  had  watched 
Dow's  pitching,  and  went  to  bat  determined  to 
advance  Ferguson  at  least  one  base.  He 
fouled  once  and  had  a  strike  called  on  him. 
Then  he  struck  savagely,  and  Ferguson  shot  to 
second.  Sampson  threw  to  second  too  hur 
riedly,  Hunting  was  obliged  to  jump  to  the 
right  to  stop  the  ball,  and  Ferguson  was  safe, 
with  Crosby  on  first.  Ferguson  made  a  daring 
steal  to  third,  Woodman  caught  one  of  Dow's 


beautiful  pitches  for  a  strong  drive  to  right, 
over  the  head  of  short  and  wide  of  second,  land 
ing  short  of  the  right  fielder — and  Ferguson 
scored,  with  Crosby  on  second  and  Woodman 
on  first. 

Link's  voice  was  drowned  by  a  terrifying 
bellow  from  Lumbert,  who  had  just  got  suffi 
ciently  warmed  up  to  use  his  log-drive  voice. 
"Nick  o'  the  Woods,  ye  broke  the  jam!"  he 
yelled.  ff  Albert,  ye've  got  to  keep  'em  in  the 
stream !  Sock,  ye  damned  slow  coach,  wake  up ! 
D'ye  hear,  wake  up!  Git  yer  peavy  and  git  to 
work!  Albert,  yer  got  to  climb  the  jam  to  ther 
bag,  and  yer  got  to  git  there!  Nick,  don't  ye 
roost  on  that  bag!  I'll  send  Jay  Gould  to 
git  ye  movin',  as  I  sent  him  to  start  up  Lunt 
and  Sykes!  Now  Sock.,  yer  standin'  on  the 
key  log!  Git  yer  peavy  to  work!  Git  to 
work!" 

This  outburst  was  a  novelty  to  all.  Even 
Gould  stood  and  drank  it  in,  forgetting  to 
keep  the  game  moving.  The  crowd  was  de 
lighted,  and  when  Link  could  be  heard  he 
shouted,  "  What's  the  matter  with  old  Lum- 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        413 

"bert!"  and  there  was  a  roar  of  "He's  all 
right!"  from  grand  stand,  bleachers  and  the 
field. 

Dow  now  gave  a  beautiful  exhibition  of 
nerve  and  pitching.  Sock  was  retired  with 
just  three  pitches,  and  the  men  on  bases  could 
not  move.  Henri  could  not  touch  Dow's  balls, 
and  went  to  the  bench  after  only  five  balls  had 
been  pitched. 

The  teams  had  now  gauged  each  other,  and 
the  play  was  pretty  even.  The  U.  of  M.  made 
a  score  in  the  fourth  by  a  good  hit  to  right  by 
Dudley,  followed  by  a  safe  hit  by  Dow.  Dud 
ley  got  home  through  a  muffed  fly  sent  to 
Whitcomb  by  "  Gard  "  Hunting.  There  was 
no  more  scoring  until  in  the  eighth  Jim 
Gramme  "got  onto"  Dow's  method  and  sent 
the  ball  sailing  over  the  heads  of  all  the  out 
fielders  for  a  well-earned  home  run.  This 
brought  Link  and  Lumbert  both  to  the  front, 
and  there  was  another  chorus  of  exultant 
shouts,  finally  drowned  by  laughter  at  Lum- 
bert's  lumberman  vernacular.  The  Millin- 
ockets  had  "  found  "  Dow.  His  lack  of  ver- 


414       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

satility  was  the  U.  of  M.'s  ruin.  Russ  was  no 
better  pitcher,  but  he  was  fertile  in  expedients 
calculated  to  confuse  the  strikers.  The  col 
legians  never  "  found  "  him.  As  soon  as  they 
began  to  hit  him,  he  changed  his  style.  He 
pitched  with  either  hand,  and  soon  learned  who 
among  the  U.  of  M.  were  worried  by  left- 
handed  balls.  He  could  pitch  almost  without 
preliminary  movements.  His  arm  would  begin 
to  swing  gently,  but  the  striker  never  knew 
whether  it  was  the  first  of  a  series  of  gyrations 
preparatory  to  delivery,  or  whether  the  ball 
would  shoot  over  the  plate  and  get  a  strike 
called  on  him  while  he  was  wondering.  It 
seems  that  Russ  was  noted  in  college  for  this 
unusual  and  peculiar  ability  to  pitch  without 
the  usual  preliminary  contortions,  and  it  had 
brought  him  some  very  flattering  offers  from 
league  managers.  None  of  the  Millinocket 
players  knew  of  it,  and  they  were  as  delighted 
as  the  U.  of  M.'s  were  dismayed. 

The  ninth  inning  was  stubbornly  fought  by 
both  teams,  but  Dow  was  tired  and  rattled. 
He  pitched  pluckily,  but  his  balls  were  hit,  and 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        415 

Whitcomb  and  Crosby  scored.  The  U.  of  M. 
got  two  men  on  bases,  with  one  out,  when  Russ 
"  let  himself  out "  and  ended  the  game  in  one- 
two  order. 

After  the  first  wild  and  uncontrollable  en 
thusiasm  on  the  part  of  the  Millinockets  and 
their  friends  had  partly  exhausted  itself  in 
shouts  and  huzzas,  and  all  those  manifestations 
of  joy  with  which  the  victors  are  wont  to  regale 
each  other,  came  the  reaction.  There  was 
something  due  their  gallant  opponents,  the  U. 
of  M.  At  the  front  of  the  stand  was  seen  the 
burly  figure  of  the  proprietor  of  the  hotel.  He 
signaled  for  silence  and  attention. 

"  I  want  to  announce,"  he  said,  "  that  a  gen 
tleman — a  stranger  to  me — left  an  order  early 
this  morning  for  the  hotel  to  spread  a  banquet, 
the  best  that  we  could  furnish,  for  both  the 
victors  and  the  vanquished,  and  their  imme 
diate  friends,  to  the  number  of  one  hundred. 
The  dinner  will  be  ready  at  8  P.  M.  The 
band  will  be  present,  and  toasts  and  responses 
will  be  arranged.  The  dinner  will  be  A  ban 
quet  to  the  U.  of  M.  by  the  Millinocket  nine. 


416       JAY    GOULD    HARMON" 

Every  man  is  supposed  to  bring  a  sweetheart, 
sister,  wife,  mother,  or  grandmother." 

The  dinner  was  a  tremendous  success.  There 
was  but  one  thing  lacking  to  make  it  perfect — 
the  presence  of  the  umpire.  At  the  close  of 
the  game  the  doctor  had  ordered  Gould  to 
take  to  his  bed  at  once.  He  thought  he  de 
tected  symptoms  of  pneumonia  too  serious  to 
neglect.  Jay  retired  to  his  room,  the  doctor 
attending  him.  It  was  but  the  beginning  of 
the  breaking  down  of  his  health  and  strength, 
brought  about  by  the  great  burden  of  his 
responsibilities. 

That  night  after  the  banquet  Lionel  Sharpe 
placed  in  the  hands  of  President  Hooven  a 
Xew  York  draft  for  fifty  thousand  dollars, 
and  told  him  to  buy  the  stock  in  the  name  of 
Jay  Gould  Harmon,  the  real  name  of  his 
manager, — no  questions  to  be  asked, — that  the 
said  Harmon  might  become  a  director  of  the 
corporation.  The  draft  was  signed  by  Mrs. 
Marion  Harmon. 

Sharpe  said  to  Hooven,  "This  is  no  gift 
money.  It  belongs  to  Mr.  Harmon.  It  is 


JAY   GOULD    HARMON        417 

his,  and  there  is  more  to  follow ;  but  strange  to 
say,  Mr.  Hooven,  Mr.  Harmon  is  wholly  un 
aware  of  it.  I  know  something  of  the  mystery 
attaching  to  all  this.  You  shall  know  all  at 
an  early  day.  Mr.  Harmon  is  guiltless  of 
any  form  of  misdemeanor  in  the  past — has 
only  been  unfortunate." 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

WHEN  the  directors  met,  three  days 
from  that  time,  they  made  Jay  G. 
Harmon  a  director,  and  raised  his 
salary  to  ten  thousand  a  year.  But  he 
knew  it  not.  He  lay  unconscious  in  his 
old  room  at  Sunny  Point,  stricken  with 
typhoid  fever.  Nurses  had  been  provided, 
and  the  most  skillful  doctors  were  in  attend 
ance,  charged  not  to  leave  the  town  while  life 
remained  in  their  patient.  From  the  time  of 
the  first  consultation  they  had  given  his  friends 
but  little  hope  of  his  recovery.  Dr.  Finnegan 
was  early  consulted,  and  at  once  won  the  re 
spect  of  the  city  doctors  by  his  shrewd  skill  and 
untiring  zeal. 

The  little  town  of  Falling  Water  was  virtu 
ally  in  mourning,  if  sad  faces  and  anxious 
hearts  are  its  signs  and  symbols. 

At  the  end  of  seven  days  there  had  been  no 
improvement.  The  fourteenth  day  had  come. 

418 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        419 

"  To-night  will  decide  it,"  said  the  solemn 
doctor  to  the  grief -stricken  family  of  Major 
Crosby. 

In  the  morning  the  doctor  thought,  to  the 
joy  of  all,  that  the  fever  had  turned,  and  said 
that  there  was  a  mere  possibility  that  he  might 
survive,  but  only  a  possibility. 

A  despatch  came  about  ten  o'clock,  addressed 
to  the  Major.  With  a  trembling  voice  he  read 
to  his  family,  dumb  with  astonishment,  the  fol 
lowing  : 

(( Arrived  Boston  this  morning.  ^Alone. 
Home  5  P.  M.  Lois." 

That  night  the  watcher  at  the  bedside  of 
Jay  Gould  was  Lois  Crosby,  but  he  was  un 
conscious  of  it. 

From  his  parched  and  fevered  lips  Lois 
heard  the  story  of  Gould's  love  for  her. 
"Oh,  Uncle!  Uncle!  you  have  killed  him!" 
And  then  again  he  would  murmur,  "  Are  you 
sick,  sir?  Can  I  help  you?" 

Time  after  time  he  would  repeat  these  words, 


420        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

sometimes  adding,  "  Lois,  did  not  you  know  I 
loved  you?  Could  you  not  see  it  in  my  eyes 
and  hear  it  in  my  voice,  that  night  at  Joey's 
bedside?" 

This  was  said  incoherently,  but  the  hungry 
heart  of  the  loving  girl  easily  made  out  the 
meaning.  Her  own  love  grew  passionate. 
She  wanted  to  gather  him  to  her  heart  and  tell 
him  how  long  she  had  loved  him.  At  the  time 
she  could  scarcely  restrain  herself  from  some 
act  of  endearment,  some  caress,  to  relieve  the 
pressure  of  her  affection.  But  the  presence 
of  the  alert  nurse  made  even  the  gentlest  dem 
onstration  impossible  and  unwise. 

The  nurse  little  dreamed  how  great  was  the 
effort  made  by  the  pale  and  beautiful  woman 
at  the  bedside  to  hold  the  promptings  of  her 
heart  in  abeyance. 

There  came  days  when  the  doctors  had 
nearly  given  up  hope.  They  saw  no  chance 
for  their  patient.  One  day  they  thought  Jay 
was  dying,  and  told  the  weeping  family  that 
if  they  wished  to  see  him  alive  once  more  they 
should  come  to  his  bedside. 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        421 

Silently  and  in  tears  they  gathered  around 
the  seemingly  dying  man.  None  of  them,  save 
Lois,  could  restrain  their  grief. 

Lois,  white  as  marble  and  quite  as  cold  and 
composed,  insisted  on  remaining.  No  modesty 
restrained  her  now.  She  took  his  white  hands 
in  her  own,  kissed  them  passionately,  and 
whispered  her  love.  She  called  him  her  hero, 
her  prince,  her  king.  She  did  not  speak,  but 
the  terrible  pain  at  her  heart  was  relieved  as  the 
dumbly  moving  lips  gave  silent  utterance  to 
her  feelings.  An  hour  went  by,  and  still  she 
stood  there,  her  hands  softly  caressing  the  brow 
of  her  lover. 

The  nurse  approached  and  looked  at  Jay. 
She  placed  her  hand  upon  his  pulse,  then 
touched  his  temple.  She  summoned  the  doc 
tor.  The  look  in  her  face  had  frightened 
Lois.  She  thought  the  end  had  come,  that 
even  while  she  stood  there  his  spirit  had  flown. 
She  moved  to  the  foot  of  the  bed,  in  dumb 
agony,  and  waited  for  the  verdict. 

After  a  hasty  examination,  the  doctor  looked 
up,  and  his  face  brightened  as  he  said:  "The 


422        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

fever  has  turned.  He  is  asleep  and  there  is  a 
little  moisture.  It  would  appear,  Miss  Crosby, 
that  there  is  magic  in  your  hands.  I  think  I 
am  warranted  in  saying  that  with  careful 
nursing,  Mr.  Gould  may  live." 

Lois  sank  in  a  swoon  at  the  doctor's  feet. 

The  next  morning  the  doctor  gave  the  fam 
ily  a  little  more  encouragement,  but  said  that 
he  could  not  permit  Miss  Crosby's  attendance 
upon  the  patient,  as  it  was  too  hazardous  to  her 
own  health.  The  doctor's  orders  were  obeyed. 
But  Lois  took  great  comfort  in  preparing  the 
very  simple  food  with  which  the  patient  was 
nourished. 

The  doctors  and  nurses  stayed  at  the  hotel 
when  not  on  duty.  The  door  of  the  sick  room 
leading  into  the  living  room  had  been  closed 
and  sealed.  The  house  was  daily  aired  and 
disinfected.  The  family  had  refused  to  leave 
their  friend,  although  advised  to  do  so  by  both 
doctors. 

Albert  remained  at  Millinocket,  and  our 
Russ,  to  his  great  delight,  was  made  his  assist 
ant.  Although  a  very  rich  man's  son,  he  had 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        423 

caught  the  spirit  of  the  enterprise,  and  realized 
the  nobility  of  useful  labor.  He  plunged  into 
his  new  work  with  all  the  energy  and  enthusi 
asm  of  a  tyro.  He  never  was  so  happy  in  his 
life,  and  declared  his  intention  to  henceforth 
earn  his  living. 

Day  by  day  the  patient  slowly  recovered  his 
strength.  In  ten  days  all  danger  had  passed, 
but  he  was  still  very  weak,  and  unable  to  leave 
his  bed. 

In  the  meantime,  the  "  Lodge  of  Katahdin  " 
had  been  completed,  and  was  being  furnished 
by  Sharpe's  agents. 

Squire  Gray  had,  for  the  past  two  months, 
been  the  only  one  allowed  in  the  house,  save 
the  contractor  and  workmen.  A  watchman 
guarded  it  nights.  Not  one  in  the  town  had 
entered  the  doors  since  the  final  work  had 
begun.  The  furniture  had  come  so  wrapped 
that  inquiring  eyes — and  there  were  many — 
had  failed  to  discover  what  it  was  like.  A  car 
load  of  decorations,  pictures,  bric-a-brac,  etc., 
had  arrived,  boxed  and  covered  beyond  the 
reach  of  prying  eyes. 


424       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

To  the  delight  of  the  town  it  had  been  an 
nounced  that  as  soon  as  Mr.  Gould — the 
name  which  his  friends  still  insisted  on  calling 
him — should  recover  sufficiently  to  allow  him 
to  be  present,  the  Lodge  was  to  be  opened  and 
a  banquet  given,  and  that  only  the  people  of 
Falling  Water,  with  a  few  exceptions,  were  to 
be  invited. 

Immediately  the  town  went  wild.  The  ex 
ceptions,  they  all  declared,  were  to  be  the 
Count  de  Mowbray  and  his  friends.  There 
would  be  a  wedding,  and  they  would  all  witness 
the  ceremony,  which  would  make  a  daughter  of 
Falling  Water  the  Countess  de  Mowbray. 
Happy,  simple  people!  How  little  they  sus 
pected  that  Lois  Crosby  saw  in  the  pale  and 
emaciated  man  in  her  father's  house  one  far 
nobler  than  any  peer  of  France. 

(Major  Crosby  and  his  wife  had  long  under 
stood  to  whom  Lois's  heart  had  been  given. 
From  the  day  that  Gould  had  entered  their 
home  they  had  seen  something  in  their  daugh 
ter's  face  which  betrayed  more  than  pity,  more 
than  interest. 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        425 

As  the  character  of  the  man  unfolded,  and 
that  untellable  charm  which  high  breeding  and 
culture  lend  to  a  refined  and  noble  nature 
manifested  itself,  they  saw  that  Lois's  heart 
was  no  longer  her  own,  but  had  passed  into,  the 
keeping  of  the  handsome  stranger.  They  had 
seen  nothing  in  the  actions  of  Gould  that 
indicated  any  response  to  her  unsought  love, 
and  when  their  daughter  left  her  home  in  com 
pany  with  her  mother  to  visit  their  kindred  in 
Paris,  they  had  given  up  all  hope  that  Lois's 
love  would  ever  be  returned.  Judge  of  their 
surprise  and  joy  when  Gould's  letter  con 
fessing  his  love  came.  They  knew  that  no  title, 
no  proud  station  in  society,  no  wealth,  could 
operate  to  extinguish  the  unalterable  love 
which  Lois  bore  Gould.  Without  a  word  of 
comment  his  letter  was  sent  to  her.  And  when 
Gould  had  been  brought  to  their  home,  and 
the  doctors  had  said  that  he  was  stricken  with 
typhoid  fever  and  might  not  live,  a  cablegram 
was  sent  containing  these  words: 

"  Gould  stricken  typhoid  fever.  Doctors 
despair  of  recovery.  Father.'3 


The  parents  knew  that  she  would  return  to 
the  bedside  of  her  lover,  especially  if  she  had 
received  the  letter  containing  his  confession. 
But  they  did  not  think  it  possible  for  her  to 
reach  America  as  early  as  she  did;  and,  there 
fore,  while  they  were  prepared  to  learn  that 
she  was  about  to  start  on  the  voyage,  they  were 
astonished  at  hearing  of  her  arrival  in  America. 
She  said  little  about  the  count  and  his  suit, 
more  than  this: 

"I  tried  to  show  him  that  a  marriage  with 
love  on  only  one  side  could  not  be  a  happy  one. 
He  never  formally  proposed.  I  believe  they 
never  do  in  France,  only  to  the  parents.  When 
he  read  father's  cablegram,  which  said  so  sim 
ply,  '  In  my  daughter's  heart  you  will  find  my 
answer,'  he  and  his  family  took  it  for  granted 
that  everything  had  been  settled.  The  letter," 
she  continued,  her  face  flushing,  "  of  Mr. 
Gould's,  which  you  sent  me,  made  it  impossible 
for  me  to  marry  Count  de  Mowbray.  And 
when  your  cablegram  came  announcing  Mr. 
Gould's  sickness,  I  knew  where  my  duty  lay. 
My  course  was  plain.  I  frankly  laid  the  whole 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        427 

matter  before  the  count,  and  confessed  my 
love,  and  he,  as  noble  in  spirit  as  in  blood,  ad 
mitted  that  I  was  doing  what  was  right  before 
God  and  man,  and  bade  me  '  God  speed.'  I 
took  the  next  steamer.  And  father,  mother," 
she  said  as  she  sank  beside  her  mother's  chair, 
burying  her  face  in  her  lap,  "you  know  the 
rest." 

Gould  was  still  confined  to  his  bed.  He 
recognized  his  friends — those  who  were  allowed 
to  see  him.  Since  the  danger  point  had  been 
passed,  it  was  the  practice  of  Lois  to  rise  at 
four  o'clock  in  the  morning  and  relieve  the 
nurse.  She  had  been  doing  this  for  several 
mornings,  retiring  before  he  awoke.  Nothing 
had  been  said  to  him  of  her  arrival.  But  one 
morning,  being  overcome  by  sleep,  her  head 
had  sunk  upon  the  bed  as  she  sat  in  the  chair, 
her  hair  falling  upon  his  hand.  She  was  sud 
denly  recalled  to  herself  by  hearing  an  excited 
voice  say: 

"Lois,  Lois!  am  I  dreaming?  Take  my 
hand,  my  darling,  if  you  are  really  here. 
Touch  my  forehead  with  your  lips  again  that  I 


428       JAY   GOULD    HARMON 

may  know  that  it  is  not  a  beautiful  but  cruel 
dream." 

She  raised  her  head  as  far  as  it  was  possible, 
for  one  of  his  hands  had  grasped  her  hair,  and 
he  had  partly  raised  himself  with  the  other,  and 
with  wild,  hungry  eyes  was  looking  into  her 
face.  Her  woman's  soul  gave  itself  up  to 
one  moment  of  mortal  ecstasy.  She  arose, 
and  again  her  arms  were  around  his  neck.  She 
strained  him  to  her  breast  as  she  would  a  child. 
She  kissed  his  eyes,  his  brow,  and  his  lips.  She 
murmured  every  sweet  endearment  that  had 
been  so  long  imprisoned  in  her  heart.  Sud 
denly  she  laid  him  back  upon  the  pillow,  and 
after  one  long,  lingering  kiss,  she  ran  from  the 
room,  her  face  scarlet,  Gould  calling  after 
her:  "  Lois,  Lois,  don't  go! " 

At  breakfast  time  Lois  begged  to  be  excused, 
complaining  of  some  indisposition. 

The  next  morning  she  appeared  as  usual  at 
his  bedside,  calm  and  dignified.  As  soon  as 
the  nurse  had  retired,  Gould,  who  seemed 
excited,  said: 

"I  cannot  be  satisfied  until  I  tell  you  how 


"  And  you  do  love  me,  Lois  ?  " 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        429 

long  I  have  loved  you.  I  think  it  began  back 
at  the  brookside,  when  you  lifted  my  head  and 
said,  'Are  you  sick,  sir;  can  I  help  you?' 
Those  sweet  words  of  pity  have  dwelt  with  me 
these  many  months.  O  Lois,  is  it  too  late? 
How  could  you  kiss  me  if  you  loved  the  count  ? 
What  brought  you  home?" 

"  This  brought  me  home,  my  precious  hero," 
said  Lois,  her  passion  rising  again.  And  she 
handed  him  the  letter  in  which  he  had  confessed 
his  love.  He  glanced  at  it,  then  said : 

'  That  letter  was  a  heaven-born  inspiration, 
yet  my  heart  was  cold  and  hopeless  when  I 
wrote  it.  And  you  do  love  me,  Lois?" 

"  More  than  words  can  frame.  More  than 
lips  can  speak.  I  love  you  like  this,"  and  the 
fair  woman,  giving  up  to  her  love,  gathered 
him  again  to  her  bosom,  and  rained  on  him 
faster  than  he  could  respond  her  virgin  kisses. 

So  oft  it  is  that  natures  outwardly  cold  and 
unresponsive  have  fires  within  that  are  con 
suming;  but  when  they  find  vent,  are  released 
from  their  imprisonment,  they  become  nearly 
uncontrollable. 


430       JAY   GOULD    HARMON 

From  this  time  Gould's  recovery  was 
rapid.  He  could  not  bear  to  have  Lois  out  of 
his  sight.  The  family  were  enjoying  a  degree 
of  happiness  they  had  never  known  before. 
Nothing  had  been  said  to  change  the  generally 
accepted  report  in  the  town  that  the  Count  de 
Mowbray  was  coming  to  Falling  Water  as 
soon  as  the  Lodge  was  finished,  which  they  still 
continued  to  call  "  Chateau  de  Neumoirs."  It 
was  to  be  the  count's  American  home,  and  the 
wedding  would  take  place  at  the  opening  of 
the  house,  when  all  were  to  be  present.  There 
would  probably  be  princes  and  dukes,  friends 
of  the  count,  and  they  would  meet  them.  Just 
think  of  it — to  shake  hands  with  a  duke  and 
a  count!  It  was  more  than  happiness!  it  was 
glory.  Where  this  idea  originated  will  never 
be  known,  but  around  the  old  Squire's  fire 
place,  in  the  mouths  of  that  curious,  conjectur 
ing  group,  the  theme  was  perennial,  and  grew 
and  fattened  until  all  the  principals  in  the 
dramatis  personce  were,  through  the  medium 
of  their  robust  imaginations,  characterized  and 
tagged.  The  Squire  alone  held  the  secret.  It  was 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        431 

safe  with  him.  He  it  was  who  had  told  the 
Major  that  there  were  good  reasons  why  he— 
the  Major  and  his  family — should  not  enter 
nor  ask  to  enter  the  Lodge  until  the  night  of 
the  opening. 

:'  Trust  me  in  this  matter,  Major  Crosby, 
and  do  not  in  any  way  disabuse,  for  the  pres 
ent,  the  minds  of  the  people  as  to  the  first  name 
of  the  Lodge.  There  are  good  reasons  for 
them  to  continue  to  think  that  its  name  will  be 
'  Chateau  de  Neumoirs.' ' 

"  Squire  Gray,"  replied  the  Major,  "  any 
suggestions  or  wish  of  yours  shall  be  carried 
out  to  the  utmost." 

And  so  the  secret  was  kept.  The  great  day 
had  come.  Lionel  Sharpe,  with  three  distin 
guished-looking  friends,  had  arrived.  Of  the 
three  latter  neither  Lige,  Cornish  nor  Gary 
could  agree  which  was  the  count,  which  was 
the  duke,  and  which  was  the  prince;  each  one 
argued  wisely  and  sagely  what  they  thought  to 
be  the  outward  signs  of  their  rank.  It  was 
curious  and  original  reasoning. 

Abby   Smart  had  said:  "We  can  tell  all 


432        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

about  it  when  we  are  produced  to  them.  I 
have  three  maltese  kittens  I  am  going  to  give 
to  Lois.  I  have  been  feeding  them  on  melted 
butter  for  two  months  to  make  them  slick.  I 
have  read  somewhere  that  the  royal  family  just 
dote  on  maltese  cats.  Maybe  I  shall  decide  to 
give  the  prince  one  and  the  duke  and  dukess 
one,  if  she  comes.  I  don't  think  the  Countess 
de  Bombay  will  mind.  What  are  you  going 
to  give  them,  Bijey? " 

"  If  I  had  a  maltese  pup,"  sniffled  Bige,  "  I 
might  give  that.  You  say  nothing  but  maltese 
goes  with  the  ryal  family." 

"  That's  what  I  read  in  the  book  of  '  British 
Peerage  '  that  I  borrowed  of  that  English  fam 
ily  in  Greensburg.  Well,  I  can't  say  that  I 
read  it,  but  they  told  me  so,  and  lots  of  other 
wonderful  things.  If  I  am  going  to  'sociate 
in  the  future  with  dukesses  and  members  of 
the  French  court  [and  her  airs  were  something 
distressing]  it  behoofs  me  to  know  something 
of  their  customs  and  habits."  And  she 
flounced  out  of  the  post  office  with  an  air,  as 
she  thought,  befitting  an  exalted  station. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

A"  twelve  o'clock,  noon,  the  doors  of  the 
Lodge  were  opened,  and  the  people 
invited  to  enter  and  inspect  the  house. 
The  lodge  had  been  built  on  broad  and 
liberal  lines.  While  but  two  stories  high,  the 
roof  lay  low  and  projected  over  the  walls  on 
all  sides  quite  five  feet.  This  gave  the  house 
a  protecting,  brooding  effect.  The  windows 
were  large  and  many.  The  general  finish  on 
the  first  floor  was  dark,  but  the  windows  let  in 
so  much  light  that  the  somber  stain  of  timbers 
and  walls  lent  no  gloom.  The  great  hall  in  the 
center,  twelve  feet  wide,  swept  entirely  across 
the  house,  thirty  feet,  free  and  clear.  As  you 
stood  in  the  center  looking  southwest  the  rip 
pling  river  was  before  you,  and  beyond  this  a 
landscape  of  homes  and  farms  environed  by 
the  tumbling  mountains.  To  the  northwest 
the  scene  was  equally  attractive.  The  woods 

433 


434        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

came  nearly  to  the  door.  The  trees  had  been 
cut  out  sufficiently  to  let  in  the  sunlight.  A 
suggestive  road  led  its  winding  way  through 
the  trees  which  nearly  canopied  it.  To  the 
left,  "  peeks  "  here  and  there  disclosed  the  shin 
ing  waters  of  the  Penobscot.  One  felt  drawn 
to  enter  and  traverse,  all  alone,  this  bower  of 
peace,  where,  far  from  the  tumult  of  the  world, 
its  pride,  its  vanity,  its  selfishness,  one  could 
commune  with  Nature,  feel  her  touch,  behold 
her  beauty,  and  hear  her  sweet  voice,  if  he  but 
brought  with  him  a  soul  attuned  and  ears  and 
eyes  sensitive  to  the  delicate  sounds  and  spirit 
ual  beauties  that  encompassed  him. 

The  first  thing  that  attracted  the  people  as 
they  entered  was  a  large  room  on  the  left,  thirty 
feet  long  and  twenty  feet  wide.  The  opening 
from  the  hall  was  ample,  disclosing  the  great 
fireplace  built  of  native  stones.  It  was  guilt 
less  of  the  modern  fancy  tiling,  of  burnished 
brass  tongs  and  shovels,  but  in  their  place  were 
utensils  of  solid  iron  of  sufficient  strength  to 
handle  the  great  wood  appropriate  for  such  a 
fireplace.  It  was  a  timbered  ceiling,  the  tim- 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        435 

bers  being  carefully  hewn  from  the  native 
spruce.  They  were  stained  a  dark  brown, 
while  between  them  on  the  rough  plaster  the 
soft  greenish  yellow  which  obtains  in  the  shade 
of  the  early  poplar  leaf  was  used.  The  effect 
was  charming.  The  floor  was  of  polished 
maple,  with  a  large  and  beautiful  rug  in  the 
centre,  while  smaller  ones  were  scattered  about 
in  charming  haphazardness.  The  furniture 
was  massive.  Young  elms  and  ash  had  been 
fashioned  into  chairs,  rockers,  benches  and 
settles.  Where  it  was  possible  the  bark  re 
mained  upon  them,  and  was  thoroughly  var 
nished.  Over  the  great  fireplace  hung  a 
picture  which  attracted  many  observers.  It 
was  that  of  a  soldier  of  the  Union,  a  Major  in 
full  uniform,  and  under  it  in  gold  letters  was 
written  "Major  Daniel  Crosby." 

Sharpe  had  borrowed  a  small  picture  on 
some  pretext,  and  had  had  it  enlarged  and 
painted.  Other  pictures  appropriate  to  the 
room  hung  on  the  walls.  In  the  hall  was  a 
picture  which  the  people  could  not  seem  to 
leave — a  view  of  a  log- jam  on  Grand  Falls. 


436        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

On  the  right  was  a  library,  and  that  too  had 
a  large  fireplace.  There  were  many  books, 
globes,  and  maps,  and  in  one  corner  a  Chick- 
ering  Grand  piano,  and  on  it  was  a  card  which 
read:  "A  wedding  present  to  Mademoiselle 
Lois  Crosby  from  her  husband  to  be." 

If  the  many  who  were  present  had  dared  to 
express  their  thoughts  openly  there  would  have 
been  a  chorus,  "  Didn't  I  tell  you  so?  "  "  Just 
what  I've  always  said,"  etc. 

Abby  could  not  hold  in,  but  had  to  speak 
out:  "I  knowed  the  count  was  here,  and  I 
knowed  there  wras  going  to  be  a  marriage.  It's 
going  to  be  jest  as  I  told  you.  The  whole  ryal 
family  is  hid  in  some  of  those  big  rooms,  wait 
ing  for  the  folks  to  get  here.  O,  dear !  I  can't 
hardly  wait  for  the  dukesses  and  princesses  to 
come  downstairs.  I  wonder  where  the  wed 
ding  ceremony  wrill  take  place.  I  am  going  to 
watch  the  countess,  so  I'll  know  what  to  do  at 
my  nupshales." 

They  had  done  away  entirely  with  the 
ghastly  modern  parlor.  The  house  was  for 
service,  not  for  show.  The  library  had  been 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        437 

finished  in  soft  olive.  It  had  the  timbered 
effect,  and  an  air  of  spaciousness  and  quiet 
beauty.  The  six  chambers  above  were  painted 
in  soft  colors,  quite  light,  and  to  the  simple 
eyes  that  beheld  them  they  seemed  like  the 
abodes  of  angels,  so  delicate,  so  artistic  and 
perfect  in  every  appointment  were  they. 

The  people  who  passed  through  the  house 
grew  strangely  quiet  when  they  realized  that 
the  trees  that  had  grown  about  them,  the  com 
panions  of  their  boyhood,  youth,  and  manhood, 
had  been  converted  by  the  hand  of  art  into 
these  things  of  beauty  and  utility.  They  felt, 
many  of  them,  that  they  lost  sight  of  the  spirit 
ual  use  of  beauty  superadded  to  utility. 

In  the  open  grove  on  the  northwest,  tables 
had  been  placed  and  decked  fittingly.  The 
tables  were  spread  so  as  to  run  parallel  and 
i»  quite  near  the  long  broad  porch. 

The  people  were  told  to  seat  themselves  at 
the  tables.  Not  one  of  the  Crosby  family  or 
any  of  the  "  distinguished  guests "  had  been 
seen.  Squire  Gray,  assisted  by  Gramme  and 
Link  Lincoln,  was  superintending  everything. 


438       JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

Tables  also  had  been  placed  upon  the  porch,  on 
both  sides  of  the  broad  steps,  and  one  on  the 
walk  below  and  in  front,  evidently  reserved  for 
someone. 

Suddenly  there  was  heard  the  sound  of  the 
Mendelssohn  "  Wedding  March  "  from  an  or 
chestra  concealed  in  the  upper  hall.  Then  in  the 
door  appeared  Major  Crosby  and  his  wife, 
Gould  and  Lois,  Madeline  and  Carter,  Al 
bert  and  Dolly,  Lionel  Sharpe  and  a  tall,  dark- 
complexioned  man  whom  everybody  thought 
to  be  the  Count,  President  Hooven,  the  direc 
tors  and  their  ladies,  also  Rev.  Mr.  Fessenden 
and  Helen.  I  should  have  said  that  in  the 
Crosby  group  were  John  Crosby  and  his  wife. 
All  of  the  former's  arrogance  and  pomposity 
had  left  him,  and  he  appeared  as  he  really  was, 
a  strong,  sturdy  yeoman  of  the  soil. 

And  last  but  not  least  of  those  who  came  for 
ward  with  the  distinguished  guests  was  Dr. 
Finnegan.  His  whole  person  seemed  to  glow 
with  effulgent  good-nature.  It  was  the  "  red 
letter  "  day  of  his  life,  and  he  made  the  most 
of  it. 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        439 

The  visitors  from  out  of  town,  including  the 
"ryal  family,"  occupied  the  tables  right  and 
left  on  the  porch,  but  the  Crosby  family  went 
down  the  steps  and  seated  themselves  at  the 
reserved  table  in  the  midst  of  their  friends  and 
neighbors. 

The  Squire,  from  the  steps,  addressed  the 
people  as  follows: 

"Friends  and  neighbors,  before  we  partake 
of  the  bounty  spread  for  us  by  a  generous 
hand,  I  desire  to  make  a  few  remarks.  A  few 
years  ago  there  appeared  in  our  midst  a 
stranger,  a  young  man  suffering  from  sickness 
and  misfortune.  There  was  a  good  Samaritan 
in  our  town  who,  without  questioning,  seeing 
only  a  suffering  brother,  took  him  to  his  home 
and  nursed  him  back  to  health." 

(Here  Gould  turned,  with  a  surprised  look, 
towards  the  Squire.) 

"  It  is  unnecessary  for  me  to  recount,"  con 
tinued  the  Squire,  "  the  events  which  followed. 
How  we  gradually  learned  to  respect  and  love 
the  stranger;  how  he  repaid  us;  how,  on  sev- 


410        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

eral  occasions,  he  risked  his  life  for  some  of  our 
people;  how  he  brought  hope  and  help  to  our 
nearly  despairing  neighbor;  and  to  our  town, 
some  degree  of  fame  by  being  the  home  hero 
of  Grand  Falls.  That  he  has  proven  himself 
a  strong  man  and  capable,  an  honest  man 
and  generous,  a  man  of  ripe  genius,  without 
pride;  a  man  of  deeds,  without  vanity;  a  man 
of  highest  culture  and  refinement,  without  ego 
tism,  and  without  display;  is  but  to  tell  the 
truth  and  to  honor  ourselves  by  honoring  him. 
"But  there  is  an  interesting  sequel  to  all 
this.  This  stranger  had  a  friend  of  wealth 
and  influence  who  had  despaired  (judging  of 
men  and  wromen  as  he  knew  them  in  New 
York)  of  ever  meeting  a  perfectly  unselfish 
man;  one  in  whom  altruism  had  found  its  per 
fect  symbol  and  character.  But  when  he 
heard  from  the  lips  of  his  friend,  Mr.  Jay 
Gould  Harmon  (for  that  is  to  be  his  name 
henceforward,  my  neighbors)  the  story  of  a 
Samaritan  kindness  he  felt  that  he  owed  a  debt 
not  only  to  Major  Crosby  but  to  the  town  in 
which  he  lived,  to  its  people  who  had  be- 


JAY    GOULD    HARMON        441 

<fw- 

friended  this  friend,  believing  in  him,  trusting 
in  him  with  unquestioning  faith. 

"  Now,  what  I  am  going  to  say  is  known  to 
no  man  or  woman  here,  save  the  giver  and 
myself.  This  house,  with  all  its  furnishings, 
is  given  in  fee  simple  to  Major  Daniel  Crosby 
and  his  heirs  forever,  as  his  appreciation  and 
recognition  of  the  real  spirit  of  altruism  and 
sweet  charity  which  he  believed  to  be  banished 
from  the  world.  Here  are  the  deeds,  dated 
this  day. 

"Another  secret  I  hold:  You  were  expect 
ing  to  witness  to-day  the  marriage  of  the 
French  Count  de  Mowbray  to  one  of  our 
daughters,  Lois  Crosby.  You  shall  not  be  dis 
appointed.  There  will  not  only  be  one  wed 
ding,  but  two.  The  bridegrooms,  however, 
will  not  come  '  out  of  the  east '  to  take  away  our 
fair  Inezes;  but  they  will  come  from  our  own 
sons — our  American  princes  of  blood.  Arise, 
and  attend  to  the  wedding  ceremony  of  Jay 
Gould  Harmon  and  Lois  Crosby,  and  Arthur 
Carter  and  Madeline  Crosby.  The  Rev.  Mr. 
Fessenden  will  officiate." 


442        JAY    GOULD    HARMON 

These  revelations  had  followed  one  another 
so  rapidly  that  the  people,  too  much  astonished 
to  comment,  were  silent.  Only  by  look  did 
they  express  themselves.  They  arose  and 
watched  the  ceremony  to  the  end,  and  then 
were  told  by  Squire  Gray  to  celebrate  the  event 
by  f alling-to  and  eating  everything  in  sight. 

"  There  is  still  another  thing  I  forgot  to  tell 
you,"  resumed  the  Squire.  "  The  old  home  of 
Major  Crosby  is  to  be  converted  into  a  gym 
nasium,  bathroom,  and  library,  for  the  good 
of  the  people  of  Falling  Water,  given  to  them 
by  the  same  generous  man  who  has  done  so 
much  throughout  this  county  for  the  schools. 
I  must  caution  you  of  the  futility  of  trying  to 
learn  his  name.  In  good  time  you  shall  know. 

"Now,  make  merry  I" 


Mason's  Corner  Folks 


'The  Village  Gossips  wondered  who 'he  was, 
-what  he  was,  what  he  came  for.  and  how 
long  he  Intended  to  stay." 


HONEST 
S  XPRESSION9 

FROM  THE 
fRESS  Of 
AMERICA  t 
Boston  B  vetting  Tra» 

script. 

"Bright,  fresh  and 
breezy,  an  absolutely 
true  picture  of  New 
England  life  and  char 
acter.  By  all  means 
read  QUINCY  ADAMS 
SAWYER." 

Philadelphia     Even 
ing  Telegraph. 

44  It  is  as  sweetly  nat 
ural  as  the  breath  of 
the  fields.  The  good 
folks  who  move  in  its 
pages  are  real,  and 
their  honest  humor  and 
every-day  views  of  life 
are  cheerful." 

The   Living;   Church, 
Milwaukee. 

44  We  predict  the  book 
will  be  more  alive  in 
five  years  than  most 
of  the  books  of  to-day; 
for  it  has  tenderness, 
and  has  sympathy,  and 
has  life." 

Kansas  City  Times. 

44  It  is  a  New  England 
story,  but  it  is  so  truly 
a  human  nature  picture 
that  it  fits  anywnere  in 
the  United  States." 

New"  York  Journal. 
44  It  is  full  of  interesting 
incidents,  quaint  say 
ings,  healthy  sentiment 
and  a  certain  irresisti 
ble  humor  that  makes  it 
a  book  that  will  appeal 
to  readers  who  are 
tired  of  the  conven 
tional  society  and  the 
so-called  historical 
novel." 
Nashville  American. 

v "  It  is  by  long  odds 
the  simplest  and  truest 
picture  of.New  England 
life  rand  character  ever 
penned." 

New  York  World. 

"There  is  no  story 
with  a  more  vigorous 
swing  of  homely. 

T^MM^MBHMnMBMBIBt^BBnO^BanHllH^T       healthful  life." 

BY    CHARLES    TEUTON  PIDGIN  THE  AUTHOR  Of* 

"  BL.ENNERHASSETT."n 
Bound  In  Cloth,  $O.7S  and  $1.5O. At  all  Book»«ll»rm 

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ENGLAND STORY 
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NEW    ENGLAND 

VILLAGE  CHAR/ 

ACTER,     SCENES 

AND    INCIDENTS)^ 

FULL    OF    HOMELY  'HUMAN 

INTEREST. 


BE  SURE  AND  ASK  FOR 


By  the  Author  gf 
'MISS  PETTICOATS' 


MY 
LADY 

LAUGHTER 


A  NOVEL  OF  UNIQUE  CHARM 

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Miss 


BY 
DWICHT   TILTON. 


(MOM  PETIT  COEUR) 

N.  Y.  TIMES  SATURDAY    REVIEW, 

JUNE    14,    1902. 

'« From   the   moment    when    Agatha 
Renier  makes  her   appearance    'swaymg 
like  a  scarlet  vine*  to  the  bridle  of  old 
Mrs.    Copeland's   maddened  horses 
and      stopping     their     headlong 
progress,     the   reader    has    a 
right   to   expect   marvelous 
developments.     And    in 
this    he    is    not 
disappointed 


NASHVILLE   AMERICAN 
MAY    22. 

"Here  is  a  tale  of  modern 
life  to  rrake  you  hold  your 
breath  over  one    episode  and 
wonder  what  is  coming  next.    Jt 
is  an  American  novel  full  of  inter 
est  and  brightness,    and    so  full  of 
action    that   the  incidents  fairly  step 
on   each   other's  heels." 
SEVEN  BEAUTIFUL  ILLUSTRATIONS  IN  COLORS. 

Handsomely  Bound,  Price  $1.50.    At  all  Booksellers 
C.  M.  CLARK  PUBLISHING  CO.,  BOSTON,  MASS. 


A     000  073  049     9 


